Touched the Bells
*** (Touched, the bells)
Touched, the bells
of churches on Sunday,
expand the joy
of these cypresses
shielding
the bent shadows.
And at the place of
lucid peace
aside
the wheat and bread
made for
that day
with wings
blown off by time, it stays -
the fallen statue
of that one
who nothing shifts
as he is into
joy.
Copyright © Bozhidar Pangelov | Year Posted 2015
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