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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