Her sound 

is all but muted,

still, she carries around

the weight of yesterday.

My stunning beauty,

I love you,

even in this dark silence.

I can tell you now

I still remember

the ringing perfection

your bell made.

I’m nervous now

the hurt and pain

the loss of a mother,

and other things

have silenced your sound

forever perhaps.

I’m prepared

for a lifetime of convincing

I’ll take the photographs

because in that the way

it may just bring

your “diiinnnnggg”

back to me.

I’m careful now

not to touch or disturb,

it’s the second day now

me trying to convince you

to simply think about

making any sound at all.

4 responses to “A Bell”

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