Echolalia

I dream of my father,
alive again!
in the driver’s seat
of our old Zephyr
on a road trip, he and I,
to tour the colleges
of Pennsylvania.
He doesn’t speak but echoes
present into past,
as I drive my child
to Philly
with Dad’s memorial candle
in the cup holder.

123/365

A version of this poem first appeared on Bluesky. Whispered into the acoustic sensors of the sleeping dreaming android, it prompted the electric sheep to generate one more tomorrow…

© 2025 Greg R. Fishbone, generated by MidJourney as a derivative work of the poem, "Echolalia" by Greg R. Fishbone