Ringing the Changes
Perhaps empty time
just as wood has a grain.
The central moments
of the natural year
manifest much like
upon in a journey
of a thousand miles.
How shall we
Drifting, cold, deep snow everywhere,
filling all the unseen cracks in the houses.
The furry snow bunnies are meeting up on
winter mountain, and the priests have run
out of money and have all gone home.
The children light candles for each
star in the night sky while the
grownups drink hot coffee, sit at
the round table, and speak in earnest
of getting rid of all the tanks.
Heavy metal, slow metal, cold metal,
the sound of bells, thousands
of bells, swaying back and forth,
a wave of joyful sound,
passing on from city to city
to city, some say,
as swiftly as
the turning of the Earth itself.
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