Asking Cynthia...

on the blank pages
i write nothing
on the wall i write
nothing
i only speak and
then leave
when i arrive here
i carry nothing and
thus give you nothing
when the hour comes
for departure
i travel light
as light as air passing
by your window
i take nothing too
for

empty handed i come
and empty handed shall i go

did you say that too
cynth?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!