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"Since all these things will be dissolved, what manner of persons ought you to be?"

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

To Pass the Morning

I wrote this one a while ago and just stumbled on it. I made a few changes and voila. What do you think?

To Pass the Morning


Outside, the school’s brass bell chimes the hour,
(hours)
commemorating a moment.
I count them, one by one,
to pass the morning
noon
afternoon.
Meanwhile, all water in all streams flows
onward and evanescent clouds
float slowly through
our milky sky.
I like to nod at them as they pass
by and pretend we share
a connection—
that they exist,
and I exist,
which is another of those mysteries,
like whether a tree makes
a sound as it falls
alone in a
forest.
I think it does.
The falling sounds like a bell—
a brass bell—to mark its passing.

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