A Moment Missed.

There, by the window facing south,
There is not a figure present. 
And down by the window sill,
 Down where she lays her hand,
Is not a hand to be seen.

And when, in the quietest of hours,
Doth pass the hour of,
A time long forgotten by a mind,
That was rarely there,
Where she waits. 

So pass that hour then,
Into the moment that only she,
The figure lost, does notice. 
A chime unheard that was once there,
Rings out into the silence. 

With it's dark call, it's silence owns -
All that is seen around it.
And without her standing there,
Where she hears beside that window south,
It goes onward unnoticed.