Written for my Reading as a Writer assessment, similar to my Sphere-shaped Emptiness poem.
21:3
Black void, floating without
purpose, deceptive surface
smooth to see, but
anything reaching out to it
is sucked in.
No resistance, with no
disturbance to its
perfect sphere shape.
Dark night and clouds
blend it into life, barely
noticed as it hides
in the garden, heavy
rain falling…and being
consumed. Artificial
light reached to touch
it, revealing a kitchen
scene and a man clutching
a precious, steaming mug.
His smile is kind, but
cardboard, just a lifesize
cut-out unable to live.
Gaia and Terra rise from
the earth, mud covered
guardians that shake and shake,
sending all their debris
into the void.
Scribbled Thoughts 