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.