Voices resound on stone, and trumpet through abandoned pipes.

A hum, a howl, a half-remembered hymn—

Sticks whack PVC pipes, the sound swallowed and reshaped.

Somewhere, a songbird forgets its own tune.

Somewhere, a coyote grins in the dark.

A card is flipped, a role is claimed.

Sing low enough, and the walls might sing back.

Step inside. You might just hear your own voice waiting.

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