Poem for her 943

Echo

Oh the echos that happen in this canyon

Say the word loud clear short

Then listen

They say it back to you

Ringing true yet not so

The summer day was dry

Echos were better

The fog of morning gone

The call was clear

Hello was said I love You

Glad you called the thought

Said to her as she stood next to me

We kissed

The canyon smiled back at us

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.