Tag Archives: nothing

Tonight, with Nothing

Tonight, with Nothing


Tonight, with nothing to say, with all the absent things
crowding around me like a teapot with a parade

of friendly continental guards and crows encircles
tea from China, with all present concerns poured

into an empty cup and spilled for good luck
before drinking, with a mild wind from the south

whispering threats in another language to the last
of the hard-packed plowed snow on the streets,

I remind myself of nothing, and the long envelopment,
and the cup filling with jasmine and spring, and earth.