Calling
Two calls that answered one another, as easy as confidences exchanged at a father's knee. We sounded on a hunt across the plain, as the hare burst from the long grass; we rang at some great tournament arranged to fit an heir for battle. As a boy, newly made a man, carolled his exuberance from the towers of the city, a quiet counterpoint welcomed his joy.
This note is emptied, now; a broken reed discarded in the waters. Yet the other answers still. It calls and calls. It will not let this echo fade until we hunt once more together.