(prompted from Ellen Bass’ The Thing Is)
I have nothing
I have nothing that alters my brain, which like the scarecrow is filled with straw
Like the tin man searches for the pulse of a watch
Like the lion awaits a moment of courage
I have nothing
I have nothing that compels me to move forward
In a time of cloistered closure
Wanting the tastes and smells of life
When the only scent is the lack of a recent shower
And dirty laundry
I have nothing
I have nothing that moves me to emotions
Proportionate with the vacancy
Of touch and tactile moments of connection
Without fear or cloth between our faces
Our arms in no embrace
I have nothing
I have nothing that wakes me in the morning
To the joy of the day
The lush of sun and sweat
The roil of rain
The savor of breath shared in a kiss
I have nothing
I have nothing that drapes like a good suit
Or a diaphanous gown
That speaks of elegance and brightness
Instead or pallid skin from lack of life
I have nothing
I have nothing that moves me to dance
Flushes words from my heart and mind
To flood the taint that pulls the day away
To purge the sorrow from my pulse
And open my eyes to fresher faire
My throat is filled with the silt of it all
I have nothing
I have nothing but the shape of you lying next to me
Breathing in and out
Reminding me I am still alive for another day
I have nothing
I have nothing but the sound of my child
Laughing with a friend
To tell me connection at arm’s length
Is just the start and there is hope
I have nothing
I have nothing but the pictures of friends
Kept at zooming bay but attached by passion
To remind me connection is a reflection
Of both time and tempo
And tiny postage stamp smiles are more alive
Than none at all and the timber of their voices
Can bring light to the shade of my room
The shadow in my heart
I have nothing
I have nothing that speaks to living forward
But the pulse of each of you and the drift of a Bach cello in my ears
Thanks for that.