The Chimes

Michael Neal Morris

The wind chimes aren’t so cheerful
as they tried to be this morning.
Their notes are sharp, with the teeth
of a dog tired of reminding the world:
we are all suspicious of pedestrians.

This is my second walk of the day
as I try to chase off the blahs,
psych myself up for the coming months,
already dreading summer, aware
I have aged out of leisure.

I sip hot tea and listen
to the produced music streaming
into my center of the warming hovel.
Pianos settle the room, and
ghosts return to their corners.
The chimes hang on, then blend
with the liquid traveling my throat.

 

Michael Neal Morris has published short stories, poems, and essays in a number of print and online venues. He most recent books are naked and Recital Notes, Volume I. Collections of his work are listed at Smashwords and Amazon. He lives with his family just outside the Dallas area, and teaches at Eastfield College.
This Blue Monk: http://bluemonkwrites.tumblr.com/
Monk Notes: http://mnmwrite.blogspot.com/
Read more from Michael Neal Morris: Farce With Dick and Jane; Making; The Extremist