Patricia Gomes

The Craftsman

He planned to fashion wind chimesfrom their chipped long bones and dried sinews.So many years spent in preparation —he imagined the night breezes of autumnproducing a wild dark dance betweenulna, femur, and radius.An elegy, a lament,           a lullaby. And he did. In unlit cornersof his soundless basement. He carved,drilled, screwed, and strung.But […]

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