Untitled.

The winds runs throw
the painted chimes,
reminding the broken
of happier times,

the grass grow taller,
and opens to new life,
cutting away worries,
like a silver knife,

birds fly freely over the ground,
gliding across the sky,
without a single sound

{ i wrote this off things that caught my eye while i was sitting outside. So it may not... flow... right. }