WINDCHIMES

 

Pitched perfectly to their purpose;

 

silent…until inspired

 

by the tree-bare freeze of an arctic blast, or

 

the lush canopy of magnolia and beech in a lusty summer breeze, or

 

during the fury of an autumn storm, or

 

with the first lazy whisper of spring—

 

they are always in harmony with themselves.

 

Still, sometimes I listen for

 

the impulsive clash of half-steps or

 

some unsettled dissonance that

 

sounds to me more like

 

the way I am in the world.