much nothing

how much may we make

of the nothing at stake

how deep may we bask

in this time that won’t last

how heavy might we get

in the weight of the net

how tightly must we grasp

to the lungs’ last gasp 


how lightly can we play

with the dawning of one day

how lost can we become

in the gazing at a plum

how lithely can we sway

in the tiding of the bay

how lovingly can we embrace

the emptiness of space

One thought on “much nothing

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