By seven the beds on the square had already formed a circle, each bloom practicing a tiny hello for the brass pointer. The floral clock does not jump. A petal greets the hand, nods to the minute, and only then agrees to show exactly one hour.
We asked a woman waiting with a paper bag. "I came to see if I was late for the bakery," she said. "The yellow ones hadn't nodded yet. I waited. When they did, it was still time for a bun."
The park keeper pinned a note to the railing: please do not hurry the hour; the bees are taking attendance. A day later she came back and found one daisy holding nine o'clock open, as if the clock had saved her a minute.