Quiet Harmonicas
A finder's fee of 3 coins each — the Window sends every one home.
Dull silver, a warm wooden comb, the stamped lettering worn illegible. The tune went with them; the instrument kept the breath marks.
Played gently it still favors certain notes, the way an old chair keeps a shape. It goes home to whoever hears the favor.
—Quiet Harmonicas in your Satchel