The Echo

The Echo

Andrew Senior

For Euan, Elsie and Izzy

Shouted across to the pines again and again, our voices
returned in echo and after, as we passed
amongst those cone-bearing branches,
one of my little companions declared:
We’re inside the echo and I thought
that an echo cannot exist
without an original sound but an original sound
needs no echo and I remembered that it was you
who made me.

---

Andrew Senior
Poet & Writer

Photography by Ricardo Gomez Angel