The Wind`Chime

Amy Tuso

Amy Tuso

When the wind`chime
has taken the bird song
from the dawn’s breaking
the season of our living
is turned to reflection

The autumn calendar
is plump with openings
not for leaves unfurling
but the gradual failing
of life’s celebration

Among all the colors
we find the silhouettes
of our frequent passing
cameos invisible when
all was in formation

We do not seek love
in the autumn of life
but memories of loving
fragrance blossoming
in love’s germination

“I wonder if the artist ever lives his life — he is so busy recreating it.
Only as I write do I realize myself. I don’t know what that does to life.”                                                                                                       ~ Anne Sexton


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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One Response to The Wind`Chime

  1. in quantum theory, observation alters the thing observed

    Liked by 1 person

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