Vacuum

Vacuum
by Michael R. Burch

Over hushed quadrants
forever landlocked in snow,
time’s senseless winds blow ...

leaving odd relics of lives half-revealed,
if still mostly concealed ...
such are the things we are unable to know

that once intrigued us so.

Come then, let us quickly repent
of whatever truths we’d once determined to learn:
for whatever is left, we are unable to discern.

There’s nothing left of us; it’s time to go.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

maybe too many of us live in a Vacuum.....half=alive, half-finished with the plan for us.
and not enough effort to discover the real truths about life and who we are...and then suddenly it is time to go ...and we have nothing left of us and nothing to show for our existence.
somebody must unplug that vacuum.
a really sharp write....
j.

[Michael R. Burch]

I'm glad you liked the poem. Several of poems like this one go back to bleak winter days at my college when it felt like I was walking through a very cold vacuum -- both physically and emotionally.