Love in the Time of Wind Chimes
                                                                       
There was that girl on a swing at sundown,
her bare feet
in September air.
I was going
to tell her
about the little dipper
twinkling above
the church
last night,
or that these
violets I
took from
the garden
made her eyes
look far away.
I wanted to kiss her, but got lost in how she
held the chain
in her hand.
She said swinging
like that
made her slip
from the world.
There was
something in her
eyes, a flash,
a burning tree.
I knew then
I’d never see
her again.
I said goodbye, and she whistled, softly, to no one.