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By The River Abbey - The Cheeky Celt
No bell
just water
Stone arches open wide
The river moves
without a name
past what was
inside
Walls hold
a softer cold
Lichen climbs where prayers once stayed
The air is thin
with what remains
and will not fade
No voice, no hymn
Only current passing through
a quiet older than the walls
and deeper than they knew
Light falls then slips away
across the broken floor
The river keeps
what time let go
and asks
for nothing more
No door
no end
The arches breathe the gray
And all that stood is carried on
then carried
slowly
away
