ECHOES IN THE HOLLOW

 

Echoes in the Hollow

Here I am, trudging through frost-bitten dusk,

Boots caked with mud from a storm’s cruel churn.

Here I am, whispering your ghost’s refrain,

Lingering in the ache of a lantern’s flicker,

Face caught between a grimace and a fleeting glow.

I see you, draped in a sundress of wildfire hues,

Dancing where the horizon swallows the sun.

Should I vanish into the bramble’s snarl,

Drown my sorrow in whiskey’s amber bite,

Or scour my heart clean of your shadow?

A freight train’s wail splits the witching hour,

Crickets hum through puddles glazed with moonlight.

Rain’s been falling for weeks, a relentless dirge,

Soaking the fields where I wander, lost.

They say Lila’s fled to the city’s neon pulse,

But this hamlet’s quiet suits my splintered soul—

Dirt paths twist past barns, under skies heavy with secrets.

I ache to spill these thoughts to you,

Words piling like leaves in a forgotten well,

But your ears turned to stone long ago.

Perhaps I’m just chasing echoes,

This scratched vinyl of memory spinning relentless,

Its needle carving grooves deeper each night.

Here I am, shaking off the frost’s cruel grip,

Murmuring your melody under my breath.

Here I am, loitering in the rain’s cold clasp,

Yearning to unweave this longing,

Cursing the wish that keeps you tethered to my bones,

Wishing, wishing I could let you go.