Shouting for the Echo
Empty room,
Bare boards,
Sixty watt sun.
Years have counted here,
Upon my face,
Counted on my stranger’s fingers,
Enumerating lazy days.
And I have let the minutes pass,
Hours slip,
Moments slide,
The tide has turned,
Burned upon the shoreline,
The ashes of a past,
And I’m waving,
Drawn to sea,
Shouting,
Not for you,
Not for me,
Just shouting for the echo.