empty eyes

 Poetry 21

windblown hair swept away like leaves in a torrent of air

gray stones sturdy against the rushing tide

seaweed vomited dusty astride the whirling cyclone

bread for dinner, mush tomorrow, soaked in agonizing repetition

beard speckled with the ashes of apathy

board hardened bed correcting crookbacked rookeries and empty stables

boil the water, the window a painting of despair but less meaningful

staring

staring

staring

wooden table scarred and bent, empty but for steamed potatoes peeled by hand

burnt fingers and tongues leave no trace, no sound but for searing pain numbed by day after day and night after night

staring

recycled meat playing the part of nothing set in motion so long ago

endless

locked doors and fire picks barring the ceaseless wind

light in the dark extinguished, night leaves exalted eyes blinking away sleep

the keep is full of widened eyes

staring

turn away now

god enters the house

staring

blinding

nothing

[Inspired by The Turin Horse]