The Distant Bells
by Frank Watson
Night whimpers its last gasp

with the smoke that lingers

from solo chimneys

reflected in the moonlit sky.


Breath chokes on nighttime mist,

harbinger of impending rain,

a funeral procession,

the notes to a blues night.


My voice is damp;

I listen to the distant bells

beneath a roof that offers thin shelter
from the coming storm.




All writings and translations are Copyright © by Frank Watson, also writing as "Blue Flute" (2011-2014).
Year: 
2013