Echo Chamber by Sam Calhoun


Echo Chamber

All around are little “hellos”,

The nose smudge on the door,

Morsels of food still trapped

In corners like mice waiting

To not be noticed.

Once on the front walk

We found your hair, matted

Into the concrete, red,

How it turned red in the sun.

today it was gone.

All around the fledglings

Are being winged, feathers

Left as a trade, your hair

Cradled in a nest somewhere

The little flags of you saying

hello still, hello, life.


Sam Calhoun is a writer and photographer living in Elkmont, AL. He is the author of one chapbook, “Follow This Creek” (Foothills Publishing). His poems have appeared in Pregnant Moon Review, Westward Quarterly, Offerings, Waterways, and other journals. Follow him on Twitter or Instagram @weatherman_sam

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