Day 16: Something Lovely

My challenge: to write emptiness,

If empty’s what’s at hand;

To look into the twice-drained cup

And call it something grand,

To laud the pleading upturned palm

That no love’s comfort knows,

To illustrate a vacancy

Whose door I cannot close.

But gazing into nothings fairly

Lures paralysis.

A gap becomes a chasm, and

A chasm an abyss.

The dark sings with a lover’s voice;

The minutes sag with weight.

The void bewitches and benumbs

The hand that would create.

So flood me, friends, with every thing

That dares reflect the light.

Tell me something lovely, dears.

For empty doesn’t write.