The chime of distant churchbells weaves
through wintered woods where branches ache,
dressed in the last-remaining leaves
this stealing season's yet to take.
I hold that far, faint hint of bells
a paradigm of melody
until a bird in sonorous trills
sings from a spare and crooked tree.
through wintered woods where branches ache,
dressed in the last-remaining leaves
this stealing season's yet to take.
I hold that far, faint hint of bells
a paradigm of melody
until a bird in sonorous trills
sings from a spare and crooked tree.