I imagined a clear bell echoing in the hills
Behind curtains of rain
In the hills behind the high school
So I opened the door and went there
Walking slowly in a white wall of fog
A silent more cautious awareness arises
Deeper in, the ground at my feet falls away
On a peak or in a swamp, all debris erased
Lone bell
Clear moon
Sky home
Distorted cymbals rise
What is left of the dissipating dream world I made?
Mid day, in the light, quiet echoes of a freezing moon
Distant bell, cold and clear

Copyright: SC PUBLISHING DBA SECRETLY CANADIAN PUB.
Writer(s): Phillip Whitman Elvrum