The End of Echoes (poem)

She stood by the door
drink in her hand, focused on the future
while I walked in, haunted by the past. 

How do we deal with familiar faces
that belong to unfamiliar people?
echoes of the past, but so much more... 

I cling to a fading past
what importance do you have
a decade after it all tumbled down? 

Would it be arrogant or foolish
to let your memory be overwritten–
to put an end to the echoing? 

-Zero