BLANK

Blank is the canvas that I have wrought
With dreams and offending thought
Blank is the detail written drawn
No dark of night or coming dawn
No red blushed cheek
No rushing creek
Blank is the form molded
No rushing color folded
No rivulets of line encoded
No rhythmic cacophony recorded
Blank is the order if there be any
No fleeting memory
No tactile wavering movie
No facet carved uncertainty
Blank and blank I feel
No wish for any
No need for many
Just blank, like a spinning reel
Dangling empty…

RhB 1310020332P

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3 thoughts on “BLANK

  1. Pingback: A Day in the Life… | All Christians Should Die at Least Twice

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