The leaves opened on the edge of the branches
Jeff Smallman
The leaves opened on the edge of the branches
delicately.
The bells tolled, light and free,
in the clear sky.
Rhythmically and fervently, like an antiphon,
this far-away call
reminded me of the Christian whiteness
of altar flowers.
These bells spoke of happy years,
and in the large forest
they seemed to revive the withered leaves
of days gone by.