Wind Chimes

Breezes ebb and rise as gentle as night tides, tinkling wind chimes dangling from eaves, their glass prisms flickering by the porch light like moths. They are my stars in sky's chasm. Among shy notes played by a gust birds adorn rustling leaves as spritely morning sun dances through bending branches, followed by waves' hush over an opalescent beach. In the drowse of shadows I exult in memories just as August's zephyrs tickle my lobes and flirt with my hair. But in passing eons I grew up, residing under stars overpowered by neon mockery. As I sit behind my house I'm no longer a creature of wild land, but a fixture in manufactured opulence, tintinnabulation of garnish the impetus for my vicarious life. On warm nights vistas cascade, reeling behind closed eyes, lifted in youth's ebullience by winds and glistening skies, inhaling life with feral breaths of the sea. 8/18/18 Wind Chime Contest--Edward Ibeh Eight Word Challenge--John Hamilton