The Echo

By Dennis Williams

The Echo

The echo travels to the end of the woods 
Disturbing the peace of my dog and I 
Suddenly I saw shaggy covering his ears 
The trees beside me shaking 
Leaves drooping  
Water whirling.

My peace was disturbed 
My skin frizzle 
And my tooth was set on edge.

My heart wept
Especially for the ants scampering around 
So small 
So insignificant 
To me. 
But he has a family to feed 
A queen to protect 
He looks so terrified 

Contemplating 
Whether to run and hide
Or to stand and squeal
Because he knows not 
From whence 
Cometh 
The echo.

 The evening cometh

The evening cometh and I love it 
Rescuing me from the dreaded sun
That drenched my body 
And slow down my metabolism 

It didn’t rush in
Like an unruly child 
It did not lay hands on me suddenly

 From 3, o’clock
I knew that it was on its way.

The birds were fly from their feeding trees
 Heading home 
Even if it is only on a branch beneath a leaf
The owl stretches its leg and flops its wings 
Preparing for the tasks which lies ahead.

The evening cometh before dark
They call it night
It cloaks the evil of the wretched 
And protects those that basked   in it

The evening regrets the handover 
The kindhearted are sorry that the exchange went through   
But to the evil-hearted, it’s time to be deviant
Wishing the morn will never come 
 And the sun will negate
Stifling   any hope of a morning dew  
To wash away the tears of the many victims of the night

And deny the morn of the soft grass 
Upon which the goats will graze 
Underneath which the frogs will hide 
Seeking sheltering from the blistering sun 
Waiting for the cool the evening will bring.

The back room

It’s a scurry back there 
The planning and the scheming 
But out front 
The suffering continues 
The poor looks down street and sees no hope 
Their children wondering how they will cope 

Poverty abound 
Enough for all
Takers are enough 
To take it all
Tears fall every day 
Enough to break your heart 
Still it flow 
Unending.

Only in my dream

I dream at nights 
Every night 
And wake in the morning
Seeking out, 
Searching for my dreams.

Is my dream an illusion? 
Which once again will drifted away like a dream 
Unfulfilled
Like my hope and dreams.

My dreams only comes at nights 
When I’m asleep
Eyes closed 
 Senses sedated 
Frozen in one place 

Yet it’s only in my dreams 
That my complex life materialized 
I live my best life 
I’m what I really want to be 
Surrounded by people who loves me
Happy 
I’m the happiest in my dream 
My sense of security assured 
Only in my dreams 

I implore 
I am at my best  
Only in my dreams.

Dennis is a poet/writer from Sandy Hill, St. Catherine, Jamaica. He is blessed and humbled to have his writings published in the Agape Review, the American Diversity Report (ADR), Alchemy Spoon issue #7, the Health Line Zine #1, the independent literary magazine, Adelaide #54, EgoPHobia # 74, livina Press issue# 3, Blue Pepper Magazine, entropy2, five fleas itchy poetry magazine, Blue unicorn, Academy of the heart, Dry River issue 2, and Roots and resettlement Vol.3, Taj Mahal Vol.24#2, Wave of words Lit.