Hear the sledges with the bells - 
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells - 
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

II

Hear the mellow wedding bells - 
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight!
From the molten-golden notes,
And all in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the Future! -how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells - 
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!

III

Hear the loud alarum bells - 
Brazen bells!
What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor
Now -now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells
Of despair!
How they clang, and clash, and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear it fully knows,
By the twanging
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows;
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells - 
Of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells - 
In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!

IV

Hear the tolling of the bells - 
Iron bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the people -ah, the people - 
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All alone,
And who tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone - 
They are neither man nor woman - 
They are neither brute nor human - 
They are Ghouls:
And their king it is who tolls;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A paean from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the paean of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the paean of the bells,
Of the bells - 
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells - 
To the sobbing of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells - 
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells - 
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.

because
autumn comes and fills these lungs,
and nothing is lacking, not one good thing.
(of course there are lots of lacking things
but this is me being grateful for simplicity;
oh! but don’t you dare think the lack feels bad.

have you ever kissed a horse
on the graceful neck behind the round cheekbone
right on the arching beautiful scented coat
smiling too close to your lips to see
big and powerful
with every Might and every Beauty in absolute symbiosis
forever?

i have.
and that is my love.

.still
among stately towering family
(notquite oldgrowth)
–cousins, at least, if not siblings–
whose welcome/smile was
sincere
of course(emphatically confirmed by beetles/walkingkisses)
but to stay
would be to
face tall expectations,
like marrying into the Amish.

then,

.still
before fluttering alluring depth
and lovely drifting woodbodies,
oh!greentree/mountain/sunshine peak-surrounded;
that laughing clarity-blue
cannot,
Must Not
be refused
(to gaze is to commit)/and worth every shiver.

delighted

past and future collide to now,
if you can’t help i’ll show you how
blind and moteless eyes endow,
Happy Birthday Bob Dylan.

walk along behind the fence
and Honest Think up through the bents,
faces gaunt or white or tense–
Happy Birthday Bob Dylan.