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The beautiful world is in ruins.
Twisted girders protrude from the ground.
Skeletons lay tangled in vines
as nothing flutters by on the wind
waiting for the beginning of time
in the stillness and the silence.
What can you hear in the silence?
The sound of nothing running in the ruins
chewing the bloody feet of time.
The sound of nothing digging the ground
and nothing blown by the nothing wind
as nothing flowers on nothing vines.
And what can you see in the tangled vines?
Nothing struggling with nothing in silence
and nothing waving in the nothing wind
as nothing dances in nothing ruins
of nothing on the nothing ground
as nothing waits for the beginning of time.
What can you taste in the world after time?
Nothing fruit flavors from nothing fruit vines
grown in nothing fruit gardens on brown nothing ground
and nothing soup nothing in nothing stone silence
as nothing cooks nothing in the nothing ruins
of nothing sweet nothing blown by the wind.
And what can you smell on the nothing wind?
Nothing, nothing, the absence of time,
nothing wood burning in the nothing world ruins
and nothing fruit rotting on the nothing fruit vines
and nothing tea brewing in nothing world silence
and nothing spices not being ground.
And what can you feel on the ruined ground?
Nothing dust blown by the nothing wind
and nothing hands rubbing nothing in silence
as nothing does nothing to nothing in time
and nothing gets tangled in the nothing vines
of nothing, nothing, nothing in the ruins.
Nothing surrounds the nothing ruins on the nothing ground
but nothing vines of nothing in the nothing wind
of nothing, nothing, no time, nothing, nothing, nothing but silence.
©2001, Steve Potter
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