Billie scuffed her flip flops through the dry needles scattered over the Christmas tree lot. Pine scent filled the air. But it felt too hot for Christmas.“How about this one?” Her mom... [+]
Wind chimes ring behind our house
in random harmony,
riffing with each passing bird
and thrumming bumblebee.
A glass dragon also sways there,
seeming mute while wind chimes sing,
but sunshine sparks cantos of light
from each iridescent wing.