WHEN

you don't think about it much
when you're sitting by the pond
watching a filthy white mutt
joyously swim, chasing ducks

it doesn't cross your mind
but once a day
as you putter away at your desk
in your cube
in the office
at the hall

you don't contemplate it thoroughly
on the human-filled bus
or at the beach
walking in circles over the breakers
or bending to watch a clam burrow in the sand

it doesn't hit you when you're shopping for oregano
or lipstick or queen size panty hose
or shoes that fit
pushing you body up and through material made half a world away

it comes sneakily through the night
like the whisper of a sea mist
like the dew you don't see falling
like the African dusk

lonely
you are alone
you are empty
as though what you are is scooped out
with a melon baller
there's no sound where your heart should be
there's no share
and no give

there is no answering breath
across the bedroom
and no
common bond
across the miles

there is nothing
only nothing
no thing
not