Poetry Porch: Poetry


Where Nothing Is
by Barbara Siegel Carlson

Only the lost who keep seeking that space where nothing is
may call it home. But which of us is lost: you,
blind angel aiming for the heart, or me, needing
to receive your freezing burn as love?
Can you feel my human heat flickering with animal dreams?
The space between us is immense, clear as wind,
opaque as grains of empty lives. And borders we canít see
or hear are porous with our griefs and joys in time
that keeps us bundled in its darkness.
Maybe thatís as close to clouds as we can be,
crossing through murky, unseen frigid worlds
beyond the sun. Your lightest breath now enters me
and penetrates a core I cannot know
or reach myself. Only it takes me, and I have to go.

Copyright © 2017 by Barbara Siegel Carlson.