town square

the church bells
in the town square
would awaken me
on sunday morning with
new snow on the
ground and her
beside me sleeping.
it wasn't long
after being divorced
for the both of us,
and this togetherness
was as fresh as
that fallen snow
outside on the grass,
lacing the cars
and streets.
frosting the thick
pine trees along
the frozen pond,
but the bells didn't
move her, it was
where she lived.
they were a part of
her sleep, her dream,
but for me they were
music, they were loud
and lingering with
the start of some
new path i was on,
although without her.