I rose up high
Til I was just beneath
The gray and fragile dome
And there I perched
Without a branch
Or cloud
Just me
Suspended
Peacefully below
The peeling paint
And plaster ceiling
Flake of snow
And then I floated down
Amidst the shattering
Of sky
How quietly we fell
How silent was the tolling
Of the bell




Sara Mathews     December 2015