A bell hangs in the courtyard tower
over the darkened city, waiting to toll.
Where is one who will pull it’s cord
light the cold city lamps
cry out in the shrouded night
to waken those who sleep
as peril creeps
up to the city gates?

In a dream I try
to reach the cord
light the lamps
cry in the night
but fast asleep I lie.

There is a watchman, I have heard,
who haunts the highways and stalks the byways
shaking the locks and rattling the doors
without sleep or dream or play
so I’ve heard, so I say.

She has listened to the tolled bell
sounded down the ages and the empty lanes.
She lights the lamps and cries
during the long and lonely days
sounding deep into the darkening nights.

Portland, Oregon – October 19, 2018