Sunday, April 8, 2012

Yellow Bell

There you are hanging your demure yellow head
pushing through the snow and so eager for spring,
a lily of the arid relics of the Earth

I rested on my knees to capture you,
the moment the sun found your muted bell,
but no toll rang for me

And then a breeze whispered in my ear,
said that its music was not a sound
but the rising of my own presence