Read Poem: The Hours Between the Chimes, by Brandon Steenhoek

Do you feel the hours between the chimes?
Do you taste their every savor?
Does the mockingbird latch it’s cousin’d end
as you walk and drive through vapor?
The last thing you remember before this moment
Was the beauty of the bells on high
What then, became of the time
Did you live it, or let it pass by?
Did you chance a glance up at the sky?
Graze a greening tree, whiff a jasmine pie?
Or swat away a pestering fly?
Did you wallop a willowing stranger?
Had you a moment to sit and breathe and swallow your fear of danger?
What use are the chimes if you
don’t use the time in between like there won’t be another?
Do you feel the hours between the chimes
when each hour feels just like the other?