An Emptiness Again? Poem by RIC BASTASA

this emptiness moves upon its hands
on the carpeted floors of the hallways
upon an old catholic church

the pillars as you see are taller
than the rugby players
the windows are as wide as the shoulders
of african men

i stand on the threshold of this door
the sun gets in
and i must choose which way to be

outside is the wind full of uncertain origins
inside there is this light that fears dissolution
the moment the wide window closes upon itself

there are two windows inside myself
i open them soon and then i will fly away

inside there is too much feasting
outside there is only your silence