ECHOES IN THE FOREST
//
the trees speak.
the voice moves, water over rocks, wind against leaves.
the crunch of dirt.
why did you leave?
there are only echoes now:
a memory
of moving limbs, vanishing eyes,
voice trailing to somewhere
you can't reach.
the figure, consumed by faraway light.
where did you go?
the trees try to fill the silence.
the absence.
and you listen for that familiar sound,
live for it, survive for it,
burn-your-world-to-ashes for it.
later,
you learn it was all in
your mind.
you, alone: destroyed by a memory.