Echoes  

In the attic’s haze,
I press a withered
leaf against pale glass—

a lullaby drifts
from a cracked music box,
uncertain and warm.

That first star
hangs low in autumn’s gold,
a distant pulse I once chased.

Snapshots: rustling acorns,
my mother’s soft hum,
childhood laughter echoing walls.



Across  

At midday,
sunlight fractures through
the café’s plate-glass wall—

a leaf pirouettes
along the pavement’s
cracked seams,
circling without end.

A passerby whistles
that same old lullaby
into the city’s iron hum.

Snapshots: neon sign flicker,
tile-mosaic floor,
a pixel-bright star
blinking in my phone.



Time  

One dawn to come,
I’ll cradle a seedling leaf
in a child’s small palm—

hum that same lullaby
until it settles like dew
in their dreams.

Above us,
a star remapped
in fresh constellations
glimmers with promise.

Snapshots: sapling rings,
bedtime lantern glow,
newborn laughter
scattering daylight.







.