Chimes

Few leaves fall as the breeze
Bends the taller Cyprus branches
And stirs the wind chimes
That hang lazily
From the white lattice work
Over the terrace.

The soft pleasant full sounds
Emitted as the cylinders touch one another,
Become confused and discordant
When the air contrives to turn direction.

My neighbor’s more robust bells
Present a challenge that subsumes
My more modest offering,
Creating a hopeless cacophony

When the air stills
There is little to mark the sound’s passing,