In the crevices of time, we grasp the echoes.
There once was a name whispered in
the autumn leaves
captured
by ripples on
water unspoken
breaths lost in dreams.
Remnants of laughter
bounce between walls
of days steps unseen
In crowded spaces echoing solitude.
The clocks have no hands in this room.
Shadowed corners dream of
light once offered by
unwatchable stars beyond
that fading door.