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A word came back

'Hello!' called Boro.
From the rock face came a smaller hello.
Boro looked behind Nessa.
Nobody stood there.
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Someone who agrees

'I'm Boro!'
The hollow sent back Boro.
'I like puddles!'
Puddles came back, too.
'We have a lot in common,' he told Nessa.
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A question

'What is your name?'
Your name, said the hollow.
Boro waited.
The hollow waited.
'It's rather shy about that part.'
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Nessa's hands

Nessa clapped once.
A thin clap answered.
'It returns a little of our sound,' she said.
Boro clapped twice and listened for his two small visitors.
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The drum

Boro lifted his little drum.
It had come for the walk, too.
He gave it one soft tap.
The hollow tapped after him.
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Too many at once

Tap-tap-tap-tap!
Boro hurried through his best drumming.
The sounds ran together against the stone.
He stopped. The last little tap caught up.
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Room in the tune

This time he tapped once.
He lifted the beater and waited.
A small sound came back.
He left it room to finish.
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A song with spaces

Tap. Wait.
Tap-tap. Wait.
Boro made a tune with spaces in it.
Nessa rocked her paws in time.
The hollow never quite sounded like his drum.
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Something new

A wren sang from the thorn bush.
Boro lifted his beater, then lowered it.
He had not made that sound.
He wanted to hear the end.
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The way home

Boro carried the drum as they followed the stream.
Water chuckled around a stone.
Grass brushed Nessa's coat.
Boro's satchel buckle clicked against his side.
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One last call

At the bend, Boro turned.
'Goodbye!'
A faint goodbye followed them.
He waved even though the hollow could not wave back.
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The part he brought home

At home, Boro tapped his drum for Nessa.
He left a space after every phrase.
The room stayed quiet.
Then Nessa tapped her cup with a spoon, and the tune went somewhere new.
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