I imagined a clear bell echoing in the hills
behind curtains of rain
in the hills behind the high school
so I opened the door and went there.
Walking slowly in a white wall of fog
a silent more cautious awareness arises.
Deeper in, the ground at my feet falls away.
On a peak or in a swamp, all debris erased.
lone bell
clear moon
sky home
distorted cymbals rise
What is left of the dissipating dream world I made?
Mid day, in the light, quiet echoes of a freezing moon
distant bell, cold and clear.