all fall down

       glass wind
chimes a world constant

       a child I thought
their music elemental

       like light changing
endless shades 

       of green, sky blue
the intangibility of air

       until wind
then to discover

       their tonal transparency 
suspended                                                                                                                                                       

       by red silken threads
the steady spin

       & collision
gentle as children 

       dizzy with play 
husha husha we all 

       or death 
that day circling 

       my grandfather’s bed 
a coil around his voice

	delirious with fever
husha husha

© Dean Steadman