Friday, May 13, 2016

As far as echoes go


I suspect I write for the same reason
a whale sings a song
(more than mating call)

I wish we had sonar or echo-location.

I guess few to none understand
me either-a bit of a riddle

I sense something more
than words can trap temporarily
always around, like sound.

I comprehend not wanting to know-
ergo-filling space with empty waste.

I wonder where others
put their excess words?

I feel we all have them,
a medium waiting to be heard
largely by you
alone
without a pod
in the abyss.

All of our words salt the sea
with trace minerals
of meaning and glimmers to glean.


Photo By Rwendland (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

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