Early in the morning, I hear them
at the little Catholic church two streets down.

No one's here.
I watch the same anime I've been watching for
years, accompanied by the clink of a spoon
stabbing at the bottom of my cereal bowl.

Why would she want to be here
only to lay unattended in the midst of broken pencils
scattered among my coffee stained children,
as much failures as their father, laying crumpled and forgotten like her?

I could think of a thousand reasons why
it shouldn't have been any different,

if not for those god ****** bells.

© Nathan A. Brock