Bellbird

the bellbird watches from afar,
divining the time at which to enter—
scraping metal, elements melting,
shrill chatter, seesawing the earth’s
slow and strange arpeggio—
it chimes in arcane rhythms
signalling the drama of endurance—
thinking always, sounding ourselves
out into the aether and feeling for walls,
and finally for the door from which
we’ll exit, sensing no more,
only knowing, travelling and signalling
like the bellbird’s endless beeping,
like light, like heated plasma, like fire

Thanks for checking out my poem.

Did I tell you I wrote a novel? You can also donate some of your hard-earned dollars down below—that’s money to me, for free!

 

Gabriel Muoio

$1.00

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