A Wall of Soundless Echo

Frozen bleeps are felt, a tug south and skyward.
Was the whisper soft enough, a moving of grace
through a wall of soundless echo?

Did I not lay, immortalized, in stone feet disturbing dust?
Was I moved not enough in a weightless knot of bondage
that my suspension, by a too big heart, rendered me immobile?

Written by Sherri Coulter on 22/06/18
© Sherri Coulter

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