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Poem

Funny how a sound can be so stirring,
so evocative of the past,
of a certain time and place in our lives.
Yet each time I hear the chimes, I am transported.

Once again, my youthful feet traverse the rickety
wooden floorboards of our local “Five and Dime” 
buzzing past the coloring books and crayons,
ignoring the buttery invitation of fresh popped corn.

And my destination? It was the little corner,
way in the back.
Back there, I was a million miles away
There, I would find treasures from all over the world,
bright colors in every hue, shiny fabrics, 
wooden boxes and my favorite, the wind chimes!

Of Asian design, they were constructed of red metal
rings from which scarlet silk strings dangled hand
painted glass panels. Each one was decorated with
lettering that I thought surely rivaled the proverbs
that I’d find in a fortune cookie!
The last detail was a tiny red tassel,
adorning the bottom of every delicate pane.

And as the perfume of popcorn dissipated, it was
replaced by the exotic aroma of incense from a
far away land. The glow of its burn warmed
the lap of a jade Buddha guarding the top shelf.

When saved pennies allowed the purchase
of my two dollar treasure, it became my
most cherished possession.

Whenever I hear wind chimes, I smell that incense,
I see those red tassels and I feel the breezes that
caressed my back porch and gently crafted
the delightful tune of a childhood memory.


8/20/18
Wind Chimes Poetry Contest
Edward Ibeh

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