Home > poetry > Light and empty.

Light and empty.

I wasn’t listening,

but that was no new thing.

It might have been years since I listened,

and then months

since I listened without judgement

and without disdain.

What was new was the realization

that he didn’t notice.

He didn’t notice that I stopped listening.

He would talk and gesticulate

with bright eyes and red cheeks,

and there I’d sit,

beside him on the couch,

or across the table.

No questions

No affirmations.

Just breaths with small sounds:

Hmm.

Huh.

Oh.

He was little more than the morning talk radio,

coming through the speakers for background noise

to fill the room as one prepares the coffee.

It was time for me to see what it was like

to feel silence

and to be empty.

Light and empty.

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  1. March 14, 2015 at 09:07

    Just curious as to what prompted this NOW? But no need to respond. It’s great!

    • March 14, 2015 at 10:14

      Ha! I never explain my poems. It’s no fun that way. Just pretend you don’t know me and do what you’d do with any other poem: read it, have an emotional reaction, and decide if it relates. to you. That’s all they are for.

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