The Bells of Countenance

Bells are sounding on the ocean floor
Calling en-masse quietened voices,
Though grumbling feet pass with heavy countenance
Through every remembered door.

~//~

Bells ring out sounding forlorn:
The remembrance of a past unshorn;
Life now swelling into mists of time
Scrambling as naked countenance looks on.

~//~

Because it is here, this taste will stay
An end to pondering,
An end to wandering.
Should these ends meet,
Driving sand into studied toes
And gathering gulls into a flock of followers,
Bells will ring out overhead
To remind a sullen face
Of the debt owed to paper thoughts
Stranded on the ocean floor.

• 10:00am, 24th December, 2021; Paekākāriki