Wind Chimes

I listened to the wind chimes.

They tugged a sad song

From the vault in my mind.

A sweetly strange clutter

Of metallic noise—

From a young stranger dreaming

Of who I’m meant to be.

Feeling far and removed

From the eyes that we share.

And all I can hope

Is that I’m someone worth

The sprouting daydreams.

A faded ghost

As old as the chimes in the tree,

Still strongly rooted and I think

I may have done okay.