Hello! We echo as smart as a whip.

Echo, our mirror tone of voices,

Million years much older than us,

Years in total stasis like Brine shrimp eggs

Echo, a cryptobiosis our hidden voices

Never wanting to hear us talk,

Whether railway loud or graveyard silent, he never mind;

Like deuce and tennis, here and there, he tows our voices

Mountains high or valleys low, even dirty gutters and earth,

Coming back, he fuss through

Like a tone of air bubbling to the surface water

Exploding our voices like mine to an Army’s death

Sending messages to families and friends

All around us from east to west

Wonder if he needs some rest.

 

By Onyeche Vincent onyeka

© 2010

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