new old kid on the blog,
with an occasional
old or new poem written off
the old writer's block
That third line stands out plain and stark and fierce. A year with a few of such such tides so this one hits home.
The iteration of the tolling bell, a mourning hymn itself, beautifully and delicately evoked by the repeating closing rhyme.
Thanks, friends; sadly, so prophetic in the light of my latest post of February 2.