Monday, February 19, 2018

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.

4 comments:

  1. Dear Anne,

    A beautiful poem with a lot of imagery. Well written.
    Thank you for sharing.

    Best wishes,
    Inge

    ReplyDelete
  2. Wonderful word play, enjoyed the piece.

    ReplyDelete
  3. This is very lovely, thanks for sharing it with us.

    ReplyDelete