Echoes, Shadows, Whispers, and Dreams

Echoes are all that resound down these halls;
Echoes of voices still young, still young.
They’re laughing or talking or screaming –
Or still.
But only sometime, long ago.

Shadows are all that still walk ‘cross these floors;
Shadows of children come late, come late.
They’re flashing to catch up their friends, else
Catch up.
But only sometime, long ago.

Whispers are all that still push dangling swings;
Whispers of glee-songs in play, in play.
They’re jumping and pumping and flying
But only sometime, long ago.

Where are the echoes, the shadows, and whispers?
Only in dreams, long ago.

©2023 Chel Owens

Photo by Wendelin Jacober on

Inspired by Carrot Ranch‘s prompt:

March 13, 2023, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about a place where children once played. It can be a field, a playground, or any place that attracted children to play. But now it is empty. Abandoned. Go where the prompt leads!

21 thoughts on “Echoes, Shadows, Whispers, and Dreams

  1. Such a hauntingly sad poem, Chelsea. The photo is too – reminds me of an old house on an uncle’s property, sometime, long ago.
    I loved the refrain in your poem. It echoed like the children’s voices would have, sometime, long ago.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Given the child-related madness you seem to be experiencing of late, this poem was so beautifully moving. I especially appreciated it now that I’m an empty nester. I still recall, though, the messes they made, and now I can look forward to one day seeing my kids experience something similar! I guess you can, too?

    Liked by 1 person

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