Wind chime--By Anne Curran--New Zealand

Wind chime

seashells fallen

scattered and broken

from a cobweb- shrouded

wind chime

shells and a piece of driftwood

moss- covered, disintegrated

hanging from a rusted washing line

sitting in her armchair

eyes bright, she sometimes hears

the wind chime playing, she tells

me of walks along the beach

morning swims in the sea

collecting shells at low tide

how this is the place

she knows as home

but will never return to

letting go

the wind chime playing

her lover’s ashes

scattered to sea  

(first published A Fine Line, April 2016)

Anne Curran writes in Hamilton New Zealand where she resides with her pet car Misty and extended family of parents, brothers and sisters. She loves art, going to see films, and walks.