Jan G. Otterstrom F.

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11:30 a.m. chime, one gong
bong, the half hour ping
morning time at hand
sonar sounding as the church
stands, orphic symbol
in volcanic rock, authority
in stature, poetic mystery
stable tradition imbues
as its sonic value of interruption
divides a slice of day
holds an hermetic moment
marks the course, outside
all differences, until the sound
inscribed in air, disappears
yet soon noon comes, its twelve
bells still not heard, poised plumed
ready for flight like exotic birds.

Jan G. Otterstrom F 3/6/2012