So it goes.
splash undoes more
than the logical
raindrops’ fate
but the place of begin
again rocks
every little world
to cataclysms
sending strange
pulses to universes
and rattles the jars
in cupboards
stocked with wait
but consumed with want.
indifferent to the change
gathering unnoticed,
The ladder in the bell tower
The brace of
simple slats,
rungs like truth
rings the hours
but always needs
repair, the ladder
leans too long
unheeded between
the last chime and climb,
its not clear whether
its safe to trust weight
to something that has waited
too long to be used
inside the temple of rough
stones raised to shelter
that keeps bells safe
for any exigency that sets
them sounding
while the rope
can only be pulled down.