by Matthew Mehan
My sinews lack the strength and
As they begin to lengthen
In an inane attempt to exempt
Myself from loss of health and hearth and heart.
I see my arms are lifting,
They shake while faintly gifting
All I have and all I am,
To the one whose bells I answered.
How absurd! To think that I might
Have raised myself the toll at
The gate of him whose bells
I answered when he rang them.