The clock goes withershins

I find a room where all the clocks
read withershins :

A wide chair holds our father
and three little ones .


We bring our special book,
a book with old pictures, not the usual fare
of childhood but of deeds:
Joshua stands by a running brook
choosing the men who drink
with one hand holding water
the other on the sword.
Trumpets sound the fall
of Jericho; the giant falls
to David’s arrow; Jacob climbs
a lighted ladder
opening a sky of angels.
Pharaoh’s daughter
plucks the babe from the basket
floating in the reeds.
Wild tales that we like better than Peter Rabbit