Echoes

The body retains echoes

Not only memories

But quiet imprints of moments

That never spoke out loud

In my chest

A rhythm beats

Not from the heart

But yesterday's rain

Beat on the roof

Of a childhood I hardly recall

There is no progression

No agenda

Only feelings sewn

By instinct and chance

The textbook states

Emotion is stored in the amygdala

Fear, desire, caution, rage

Cataloged like artifacts

In a museum of the mind

But when the wind flexes the grass

When dusk colors the sky bruised purple

I have a yearning

Not for something

Just to be

Where no definition is required

I should be reading notes

Cramming answers

That gain points

In the game of being intelligent

But the stars keep intruding

Flickering secrets

In a tongue I knew

Before I learned words

And so I sit

Barefoot on the roof

While the world goes on

Shuffling forward

And I

Stay still

Allowing the echoes

To speak