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the silent wind chimes
by Jason WardellThere are windchimes in the garden outside the music department classroom.
I like to watch them struggle against the breeze and their restraning wires,
they are so eager to clash with eachother and their cruel branch masters.
Through the large window, I cannot hear a sound but I can wonder.
I think of the secret melodies and harmonies they surely must be creating
all while I'm lectured on the historical importance of whoever.
Dry branches and leaves sway in the wind cuing the symphony of silver.
It is one I yearn to hear and yet one that will never be repeated
and the squirrels pass casually, taking these amazing gifts for granted.
01/15/2004 Author's Note: for my creative writing class.
Posted on 01/15/2004
Copyright © 2024 Jason Wardell
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Nadia Gilbert Kent on 01/16/04 at 06:05 AM For some reason, that made me feel like a hollow pipe (probably the windchime reference), and I thought I smelled freshly cut grass. Go figure. On first, second, and infinite thought, I like this. I like this muchly. Thank you. |
| Posted by Anne Engelen on 01/18/04 at 07:03 PM i like the contrast between what is taught to be historical important and what is really important and taken for granted by most (and the squirrels). Wonderful read! |
| Posted by Rachelle Howe on 01/19/04 at 02:41 PM hm. this would make a great painting. though the emotion of it... hm. *tilts her head* the repeated classroom-ness is the only weak spot i see, for the setting is established in the first stanza. but i think over all it rocks my socks. |
| Posted by Jeanne Marie Hoffman on 02/26/04 at 10:57 PM I really liked this -- simple beauties |
| Posted by Patricia J Reed on 06/27/05 at 02:40 AM i love the personification you use in this poem. the last stanza is my favorite. :)
-patti |
| Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 10/07/06 at 06:30 AM Enjoyed your writing here. Thanks for the read. |
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