I have packed away the
wind chimes now
One last song as I walk
to the shed
Of old bells and hollow
echoes
As long as the winter
shadows
Chasing me
Summer is a drift of
sepia tinted memories
Caught in the gutters
and under pots
As I sweep up those
days
A calendar of leaves
Remembering
Now the snow muffles
all sound
As it waits out the
winter with an icy siege
Slowly numbing the
senses
Weighing me down
Into silence
But in my mind a song
plays
A breeze of notes in
the wind
Warm as a song thrush
In spring sunshine
Wind chimes sing
