A Poem |Reflection

The bowls ring
on glass shelves
in the living room,
as if to tell
of the great bells
of Notre Dame.
They carry me
from this place,
solitary and still,
nearly against my will,
I wander absently
away
to a sanctuary
far more glorious,
more jeweled,
more elegantly revered
than this simple,
humble place.
But in this room
no gre…
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