The Chime

In sanguine summers,

Through sunlit waves,

I see the gray homes

Of misery and heartaches.

The chime rings like everyday;

The air is still the same.

A family’s laughter

Reminds me of old times

Behind a smile is

A story hidden within rhyme

But the chime rings like everyday;

The air is still the same.

Monsoon succeeds summer

Nature blooms wet

Some kids celebrate birthdays

Others mourn deaths.

But the chime rings like everyday;

The air is still the same.

Soons flows vermillion with winds

Death disguised in orange beauty

Yellow embraces the graves

Hidden from the world’s evil deeds.

But the chime rings like everyday;

The air is still the same.

Dead drops the starving swallow

Marking the wretched winter cold

I see dark, dull gray homes

And the graves gilt gold.

The chime rings a silent ode.

The air is not the same anymore.

Author's Note

Is there any way I can improve the flow and rhythm of the poem?