Echoes. Merril tending the bar at dVerse has asked us to consider “echoes” and use it in a poem. If you’d like to take part, hurry!, because I know I may be sliding in just beneath the wire.
Listen: I’m out walking, after midnight
reverberates as the cold slices inward
the sky suffused purple with high clouds
and the sounds,
ones recognized from forever
from another State so many years ago
walking a different dog
viewing the lights in the apartments
convinced the occupants lived marvelous, extravagant
The sounds, the beltway traffic,
only diminishing in heavy snowfall
when it echoes
like waves breaking
and that traffic out on 95
pretending it’s the ocean.
The distance across the years falls.
A kid again with all of her life ahead.
All the dreams, hopes, loves.
And the traffic echoes
as drivers navigate lives not mine.
Engines, tires, like waves breaking.
And I dream of summer
warm sunshine and sleep
Snow falls softly