On a swing, a woman scuffs her feet. Across the street, the church goes up in flames. She thinks she likes both views about the same. The church bells ring their last in rising heat.
The flames are climbing high as the white steeple. Their incense floats across the playground air. A man in robes consoles a line of people. She thinks church bells will always ring somewhere.
The flames are climbing high as the white steeple. Their incense floats across the playground air. A man in robes consoles a line of people. She thinks church bells will always ring somewhere.
Dawn Corrigan
http://girlswithinsurance.com/dawn/?page_id=2
Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There
Lewis Carroll