A stone belfry looms in the distance
Hairs on the back of my neck
Prickle at its resonant insistence
I must mount the sacred stairs
Climb deliberately to the top
where black the dust and thin the air
Dismayed, I discover
No bell within
Only arms and ammunition
I was lured here
By the chiming of my heart
Replaced with the chirping of
Bats, solemnly hanging from
Sagging rafter and deteriorating joist
A sparkling wick, already lit
Blasts the cannonball
My chest to hit
Propelled bodily
Through turret and rampart
I lay, unmoving
Unable to recover or depart
With every laid stone I've ripped apart
Tumbling, bludgeoning
Encasing my broken heart
My death is witnessed
By shrieks in the dark
K.B. Silver
About the Creator
K.B. Silver
K.B. Silver has poems published in magazine Wishbone Words, and lit journals: Sheepshead Review, New Note Poetry, Twisted Vine, Avant Appa[achia, Plants and Poetry, recordings in Stanza Cannon, and pieces in Wingless Dreamer anthologies.
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