The wind chimes suspended above the corner
of the patio reminds me of the obnoxious
chimes of bells as the churchgoers descend
the stairs from the holy temple above.
Gets me thinking about the interludes
and soft chimes melding a symphony
into a cohesive piece. Filling the silences
that stretch when the singer catches a breath.
The soft chime summoning your attention
away from the intriguing conversation
and down to the small device between your fingers
Drawing the eyebrows of the person adjacent and
etching a frown onto their face. Gets me thinking
about the sterility of a hospital and the
periodic chimes of the machines constantly working
in conjunction. Of the soft thrum filling the
air of a small boutique from the wind chime placed neatly atop, extracting a welcome
from the employees littered throughout the store
now knowledgeable of your presence, keeping an eye on
you as you move throughout the store, bright, cheery voices
and lips covered in Russian Red pulled back into a
tight smile, asking if you need help with anything.
At the register, small chimes fill the space as your items are tallied up
and once again the wind chime above the door rings, alerting the room of another presence.
