Saturday, May 30, 2020

There's nothing here
but you
and a wind that begins to seep
into you
though the bare room,
the spare room
you've left empty
to welcome the wind,
to allow room,
to allow you room.
Emptiness is a room of rooms
that desires
only this-
not to go or come,
nothing undone or to do.
You wanted
to be time-aligned
with an afternoon wind
as it shook shade and shuddered
into the shadowed place this empty room is,
where it now sifts
through a curtain,
or coasts
across an empty floor,
where more than anything,
it can be everything
that moves you.