Bells Toll

Staying in the dark
as the temperature falls,
touches my skin
Here, when I want to run.
Doors open,
Cloaks on the floor.
Talking,
My silent tongue.
Hounds fallen
abated in time.
Locked in the room 
lined in reams
Lifting the print
from the walls.
Lights burn 
Moon falls
Drinking the cup
Passing the cloth
Placating the crowd
as they stand in the square.
Waiting,
The Holy Door,
I walked through 
years before.
Walking in the footprints
Standing in the shadows
On the empty chairs.
The echo in the pillars,
The doves that fly
waves from their wings
passing distance and time.
To stand alone at this door
as the bells toll