Ever notice?
Wind chimes
beneath the eaves
resemble icicles
on this winter
day. In a burst
of enthusiasm, you
know, artistic fervor
and all that I went
and took a whack
at the icicles,
thinking they might
yield a version
of aeolian harp,
albeit frozen and
sound like
wind chimes.
Just my luck.
They merely shattered.
Curses, foiled again.
ƒ