Unopened mail on the counter,
a meal half eaten
sits on the table,
fork frozen in position
of the last bite.
A world abandoned
mid-sentence,
poems left unfinished.
Stuff collected, acquired
through toil
deserted and gathering dust.
Natural disaster,
a miracle...
Survival clothed only
in freedom.
This is how endings
begin.
There is an empty room
warmed only by
a fevered body,
thankful for clear breath-
sunlight pushing through
the weary and spent rage
of storm.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Artwork by Kazimir Malevich, 'White on white' c. 1918 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
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