I imagined a clear bell echoing in the hills behind curtains of rain in the hills behind the high school so I opened the door and went there.
Walking slowly in a white wall of fog a silent more cautious awareness arises. Deeper in, the ground at my feet falls away. On a peak or in a swamp, all debris erased.
lone bell
clear moon sky home distorted cymbals rise
What is left of the dissipating dream world I made? Mid day, in the light, quiet echoes of a freezing moon distant bell, cold and clear.