tiny bells

written in bed one night while sleep eluded me...

tiny bells

imps of worry,

gremlins of sorrow

have been

following in my footsteps

since the sun

broke across the horizon

and was lost into the night.

they steal from the shadows,

walk tenderfoot

in my blind spot,

dropping their tiny stones

into my pockets.

you would think that i would

notice their extra weight,

but sadly, no.

not until i disrobe

at day's end.

there they sit in the corner

along with

the rest of the detritus

of a day now spent.

tiny bells

ring somewhere in

the envelope of the night,

chiming-

they chime,

frightening away

the skittish sparrows of sleep

who go to build their nests

on the headboards

of those with

less troubled minds.

it is a sad thing

to hear their wings

flutter away

between the tings of chimes.

but at least it gives me

the length

and breadth

of the elongated night

to remember

the songs that

they themselves

can no longer remember.