“Of Sentimental Value”

my beloved gave me a wind chime
as he has no use
for childish mementos
and I have room to spare

metal sparrows dangle from
fishing line strings
there’s a foreign leaf
still rain-plastered to the top

the little things we keep
to maintain closeness with those
we cannot see, cannot touch
the silliest of things
like wind chimes
gifted to one who prefers quiet

it rests now, in the stillness of
my humble home
on the back of a doorknob
where it is admired from afar
or bumped into on accident
causing my laundry room to ring
like so many cathedral bells
and I wince at the sound
yet am grateful for its presence

when I see those resting birds
warm in the roomglow of a southern afternoon
I remember the winter wind he pulled them from
and I smile, because I know
on their next migration north
they will take me, too

© M. Black, 2017 All rights reserved.

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