Echo

By Rachel Xiao via Pexels

whisper a tale
of somewhere to be,

knotted bridges of
leaves, lightning strung

as candles along rungs from pebbles
of sand, lithomanced, whisked

by the hand that knows not
waking to evening sleeps

soundly, catching a grain
on the thumb, to a drum

where thrill is a storm
clutched in a jar

of coral from the pond
by the home we grew up

and are happy
to be happy