Two

There are two colds
the cold of the morning
before the heat is turned up
and the cold of the night
when there is no heat
no heat upon which to turn

There are two hungers
the hunger of the patron
late for dinner
and the hunger of the child
who knows his empty bowl
will remain barren

There are two leavings
the leaving of a loved one
who will return in the evening
and the leaving of service
held as bells toll
as widows weep
as clergy drone

I am cold
I am hungry
I am leaving
and I cannot not tell you
of what cold
of what hunger
of what leaving

For there are two fears
the fear I can face
that I can stare down
and the fear whose shadow
is greater than the sun
that warms my world

You see, I fear the cold
the cold of the shadow
and my bowl,
you see,
is as round inward
as my belly is outward
and the bells I hear
I've heard before
but the bell that tolls for thee
never sounds like the bell that tolled for he