Posted in Life, School

The Bell

I hang up high,

Shapely and graceful,

Enclosed about in white.

I have windows on every side

Through which I see the sky.

 

I am alone

Up here so high,

But there are birds

Who flit past and some

Who come to live with me.

 

I love to sing,

To ring out loud

And when I do –

The birds sing too

Fluttering all around.

 

I feel a tug,

It’s time to sing –

Time to cry out gleefully

In my deep clear voice

As I dance and prance.

 

Whenever

My song bursts forth,

I hope that others hear.

I want them to be as glad

As singing out makes me.

 

It’s been a few years,

But once I saw a person too.

He climbed up from below

And worked to clean me up

So I was sad to see him go.

 

But, as he

Disappeared

I felt a tug on me.

So I sang out – very glad

That he would get to hear me.

And

All

He

Could

say

Was

“damn”.

 

This poem was written for a creative writing class I took this summer and it was meant to be written from the perspective of any non-human, with the form of the poem preferably echoing the object it was about. It took lots of revisions but it was a fun poem! And sorry mom, yes, there is a swear word in it. It fit and leaves the ending just ambiguous enough that we know what is meant, but the bell can take it to be either good or bad.

Other writings from this class:

Nights in the ER

War Changes Everything – A Short Story

Freckles

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Author:

Hello; I'm a mid-twenties nerd studying to get an Associates Degree as a Library Technical Assistant while working part-time at a library.

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