sometimesihatemycat

Nothing

But rain dripping deep and hollow

On the roof a heartbeat

Irregular

Nothing

But cold coffee in my mug

Reheated and forgotten and reheated

Forgotten

Nothing

But churning in my stomach

Growling at me to be filled

Knotted

Nothing

But the smallest of blood flow reaching my toes

Unnoticed until I stand

Collapsing

Nothing

Published, but drafts of poems

Edited and waiting

Delaying

Nothing

To do today but file away

The moments as they dribble past

Drab and gray

Nothing

–A.R.

Trees, Clouds, Gray Day by Tom Brown

~ by April on January 20, 2014.

Posted in Food & Wine, Humanity, Meditation, Nature, Poetry, Writing
Tags: Anatta, Coffee, Emptiness, Gray, Hunger, No-self, Nothing, poetry, Rain, Writing, Writing Process