|
Bell |
Writing about lonely
just makes lonely
bigger. Plumps it up
too fat to fit
in the narrowness
of what it is, which is empty space
with a face
and a sound like wind.
Some people think it's arias
and high falutin,
dying notes, but that's artistic
embroidery
it's the sound of a
seashell, big as a diving bell
which sinks to
no one knows.
copyright 2005
Karen Corcoran
Dabkowski |
