Poem: Envy For The Bells

The birds fill their lungs
with envy for the bells.

The gentle and stale ringing -
stealing away the whispers of the morning,
cracking the silence with false and corroded songs.
Disarming the melodies they’ve waited their whole lives to sing. 

They perch like polite rivals - 
Heads buried inside of their feathers - 
praying to the miles stored within their wings - 
the sun will someday know the truth
about the war waged for morning glory hymns.






Poem born from: similar sounds ringing from far away