Windchimes

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