Poetic Interlude – Black Bell

There are bells:
Not a church’s
Nor a phone’s,
Ringing. Out there;

Metallic in the gale.
A drift sweeps them up to sound;
Released to sing to the street,
or just to you, for those who lie sleeping lie deaf.

They chime, “We are here, ready, to fill the scope of your ear with melody.
We herd the silence of dread;
We ring in your black pit

And flood it with notes,
Not of love, nor of God,
Nor of time, nor of death,
But of life, all around you.

For someone forgot that bell;
Left it behind: hanging alone
For you to hear and to pause
Long enough, so that you wouldn’t.

Dotty šŸ’‹

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