Nothing

[Eva Libre]

a young poet sent me this poem. i want to share it with you.

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Nothing

Look at the time.
79 days.
done.
gone.
waiting.
alone,
we're going home.
And falling asleep,
Awake we wait,
Sprawled across the benches,
Huddled on the deck,
Our pants are torn,
Our boots are worn,
Cold are the white lights of the port.
Heroes of no battle,
returning from nowhere,
to nothing, we hit land,
and I look for something.
I drink something.
I have something.
Lecture me, what do you know about it?
Nothing.
And nothing is here.
No woman waiting for the husband that doesn't know where to find her.
No friends waiting for a friend that never knew them.
Nothing is here.
Nothing is there.
When can we go back?

YMM (11/2019)