echoes

142 21 9
                                        

⌠ 1 ⌡

The sky scorches blue.

Not a cloud.

Heatwaves blur into puddles.


But every moment

carries its memory.

I can almost

smell the rain.


Break ends.

School resumes.

Grass grows long and

trees bloom in wind.

It's so green. So bright.

It's blinding.


Since the festival, the cicadas

are like distant waves.

Whispers

brushing my ear.

If I concentrate, I can hear them.

Barely.


Lately, my feet take me outside.

The same zelkova in the courtyard.

Bushes, red lilies.

A ladybug crawls on a petal.

There are marks on the tree.

Faded initials.

The grass under it is soft, 

almost damp.

Shade breaks the heat.

I sit there.


Sometimes, I wonder if the world is still

continuing.


But I look at the flowers sway.

Hear voices echo.

People who had a place.


Days drag.

Time passes.

And suddenly,

our color

is only memory.



I'm still there.

Gunpowder

and

sand.





⌠ 2 ⌡

Before this.

Before the library.

Before the deal.

Before meeting them.

Before those golden days.

Before the festival.

Before Hoshizora.


It's all a haze.

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