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What’s Left by Dianne Thomas What’s left after it is gone is an echo of silence an invisible radar blip an odorless aroma There is no proof that it was ever here no print in the mud no smudge on the snow not even a ripple in the water And yet it’s not as if it never was It itches like an amputated limb growls like an empty stomach gnaws at the mind like memories of a dreamless sleep There is more here now than there was before and what is left is full of emptiness © Dianne Thomas « Home | Contributor Notes » |
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