A dusty, dull wind chime
where there is no wind
just the draft from a vent
directly below.
An old gift from a wedding
long ago, rarely cleaned
and left portraying
the animals hanging by strings
which never march
nor clink their songs
nor reach the arc
underneath which
they hang. Its colors
once bright
now just sit by the glass,
as wind chime looks out where the
blows hit the trees.
Jealous, it watches--
never to know
of the dance for which
it was meant.
Comments
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Quite a beautiful piece giving some life to an object that should have been singing its song. A wonderfully written piece with much feeling. Well done.
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