Trip down memory lane
Day off from work--I'm putting in unmarked CDs to see what they've got on them, and finding most are old poems I wrote. This one was from when I was 19.
Church Bells
I have strained my ears,
Leaned my head out the window,
Tried to catch some gossip on the breeze--
I hear church bells ringing from your street.
I have unframed pictures of you and me
In a drawer with a rusty handle.
Our smiles match, and I wonder.
Maybe every three hundred picture books
Every other Americanized ethnic restaurant
And at least once in a warm autumn,
You bump into a shadow of me
And you say "I'm sorry."
Or you smile.
Or you stand still for a while.
Or you move on, but shorten your stride,
Or lose your beat for one second glance back,
Or simply wonder.
Please let it be that you wonder--
If only to keep my thoughts
About your church bells
From wandering alone
Church Bells
I have strained my ears,
Leaned my head out the window,
Tried to catch some gossip on the breeze--
I hear church bells ringing from your street.
I have unframed pictures of you and me
In a drawer with a rusty handle.
Our smiles match, and I wonder.
Maybe every three hundred picture books
Every other Americanized ethnic restaurant
And at least once in a warm autumn,
You bump into a shadow of me
And you say "I'm sorry."
Or you smile.
Or you stand still for a while.
Or you move on, but shorten your stride,
Or lose your beat for one second glance back,
Or simply wonder.
Please let it be that you wonder--
If only to keep my thoughts
About your church bells
From wandering alone