Echoes

This poem is an echo in itself...

an echo -  a thicket of soft
moist monologues nip-tucked under
crushed velvet cryptograms, outlined

an image - spectral calligraphy when
winds concave their cello melody over
Vivaldi notes, Monet brushes

an emotion -  hidden foliage within
time-honored heartbeats and siren
duets voice phrases, sound off...