|
| |
The Toll of a Single Bell Chime
A bell tolls — with a single chime.
Igniting the spell of dawn’s regret.
It halts the breath, suspends all time,
Foreboding with threats you can't forget.
You flinch—one foot on the stepping stone,
The wind's first touch scalds your face.
Just one finger grips your hand alone.
You wait for relief from bell’s disgrace.
The silence palls where echoes die—
The ring bell toll fades with no reply.
There's no sign, no sound, no reason why,
You're left here dangling from the sky.
A bird attempts one fragile note.
Bashful in the spelled applause.
The breeze catches breath in its throat.
Afraid to continue through the pause.
You toll the haunt of some unspoken spell,
A pact with ghosts to stop the feeling.
While winds and seas rise on the swell,
Sending your hopeful plans reeling.
A lone bell tolls—no one answers now.
So old scars and doubts take the blame.
For dismembered memories you can’t avow.
In the flinching cringe that has no name.
Copyright ©
John Anderson
|
|