Wind Chimes

We are clinging and clanging all over this morning-night, Fearlessly making every noise we can, Trying to wake up the day. And it is only three a.m. I am inanimate. How do I know that? Cannot explain the how, but I do. And I know my friend with the crystal bird on top does too. She shrugs her chimes and rings as if warning a bandit that we have guns. Bandits do not carry guns, right? Anyway, I always picture them with a big burlap bag. How could they simultaneously hold a gun and load the loot? I was only inside our house once, to get my tag clipped off, But I remember it was pretty plain. Probably no loot. My wind chime friend with the golden chimes is shivering, shaking this morning. Bringing more tinkles out of him than usual. I am trying to stay calm as a baby raccoon bats My chimes hard. I hate it when they learn To climb up the porch rail. Where is this raccoon’s mother? I try to let her know what he is doing By telepathy, but she is slurping up cat food. She does not turn around. Bat. Bat. Bat. Bat. My favorite lowest left chime is barely Hanging on now by a broken thread. Bat. Bat. Bat. I wish I could Speak raccoon. I would give him A piece of my chime. Written 8-18-2018 Contest: Wind Chimes – free verse Sponsor: Edward Ibeh