I pulled this one out of mothballs, revised and polished it, & reposted.
The truth is: I have only the dimmest recollection of having written it.
I love it when that happens.
Thirteen Ways To See The Wind Chime
Even when there is no wind
the sun makes it sing
I can hear it
whenever I want
wherever I go
even after all these years
day and night
it moves outside inside
a reliable lullaby
an unpredictable alarm clock
even the clouds envy its randomness
we leave it out all winter
let it be tortured by gales and ice
but it forgives us in the spring
audiobeacon. lighthouse. compass rose.
even over jovial cocktails
six musician friends
decline to attempt transcription
crows eye it with suspicion
but the songbirds worship it
in sunlight it sweetens
the smell of fresh cut hay
adds glow to embers
portal between mere morning fog and blesséd dream
a mystic radio
tuned to the universal frequency
the wind chime
is not what it is
Lots more really cool stuff at: THURSDAY THIRTEEN