Gone

If I stop long enough to listen
I’ll miss it all.
If I stopped long enough to listen
I’d realize it’s gone.

Gone to the market
gone to the horse
gone to the wind that blows through keyholes
gone to the rumors too heavy to hold aloft
gone to the mound
that’s overgrown with grass
my mourning now, it’s gone

and the morning has come again.

There isn’t any victory in it

and the loss it still stings when it
makes the phone a brick within my hand
but you must celebrate the living
in your spirit and in your prayers.
Both so loudly speak to me
the living and the dead sometimes
purely out of habit
take up the same space.

So talk to me
although you may be gone
and I can feel the strings start pulling
in that place where only I can feel.

If I stopped living long enough
I’d realize it’s gone.
If I stopped long enough to listen
I’d miss it all.

Gone to the soccer fields
gone to the store
gone through the keyholes
and the needle pulling thread.
Gone to the mound
that’s overgrown with grass
my mourning now it’s gone

and the morning has come again

Gone

bill bell

Everett, United States

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