← Back To Gallery

Echoes

Traditional-Acrylic On Paper March 10, 2025

A poem about being lost

Echoes

I hum a song left unperceived, a wind too soft to stir the leaves.

Words rippled against my name, but silence fell, and echoes waned.

I drift, a moth to fading embers, lost before the wind remembers.

Now I settle with dust in hollow air, waiting for shadows no longer there.