tubular tones

wind chimes sing to me
from the backyard
this late winter morning

an unseen visitor
breathes life into the inanimate

never
has metal meeting metal
sounded so soothing

the earth exhales
and we behold

tintinnabulation

such beauty
requires a better word

but it escapes me
as beauty
so
often
evades us all.

Not this time.
I simply stop

and
listen.


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