A sizable piece of it landed in my lap the other day.
I had been sitting out back, enjoying the change in weather.
It was still hot.
I was stuck on a word that wouldn’t come.
It burned a hole through my favorite jeans.
An ambulance was stopping door to door.
I didn’t want to see anyone about it.
I had a rare find I used to be holding before I looked up.
You didn’t want it sent back, did you?
The empty hole is what makes the sound of a bell.
All the time now I can smell it, lingering long after.