Poetry About Echo

I call my name beneath the stone arch. The dark returns it thinner, then again. Water carries each reply toward evening. An echo never gives the whole voice back. It proves the empty distance has been listening. Even absence finds a way to answer.

Look again from the quieter edge. The dark returns it thinner, then again. A smaller detail changes the whole scene. An echo never gives the whole voice back. Attention loosens the first easy answer. Even absence finds a way to answer.

I call my name beneath the stone arch. Hours pass, but the image does not leave. Water carries each reply toward evening. It returns us to sound, repetition, distance, memory, answer, and the world returning a changed version of our voice. It proves the empty distance has been listening. The day continues with a more attentive heart.