Empty (Notevember 2022, #14)

I have seen the coming storm.
You will see it too, in time –
grand and glorious
all-encompassing, hungry.
I have seen the breath of winter,
cradled in the valley
building rime out of the morning’s dew
grasping for a rabbit’s skin, too tightly.
I have seen the the lost things in the waves of sand,
cooked, compressed, conquered
then found and freed
only to be imprisoned again.

But I also see hope climbing a wall,
relentless and patient like an ivy
vibrant in the suffocating white.
I see overflowing shipments of life,
pushed back into the current
by those with so much that they dare not sacrifice a little.

The clouds gathering
The wind howling
The sand spreading
Hope springing
Hate seeping in.
All these things I have seen.
But no longer do I see you.