Sunday, May 15, 2011

Mornings of May

Church bells bounce from
somewhere beyond the blue,
a soothing little chime- humble and
treading faithfully over rooftop white glow-
when it's over and trailing off I expect a cheer
in the silent, bird chirping windy silence;
I clap at my chair, alone,
creaking, and weighted to
my deathly sensational existence,
the weakness in the loving minds of men,

Oh, fleeting dreams
so deep I can never carry them to wakefulness

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