Past Echoes

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.

Past Echoes

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

Happy

lives.

The sounds, the beltway traffic,

only diminishing in heavy snowfall

not tonight

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

tomorrow

warm sunshine and sleep

sand hot.

Snow falls softly

soundlessly.

Sleep.

end

Sascha Darlington

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