The Empty Room  


This morning, I go walking  

about an empty room, 

guessing at what formerly 

occupied the space. 


Perhaps there were 

dreams, perhaps 

there were plans, 

each waiting to birth. 


This morning, I go walking 

about an empty room,

 I find what once was,

now gone, dust to dust. 


In this room, gone empty, 

I find myself wondering 

where the past goes, 

to seek refuge. 


If I squint my eyes, 

half shut, will I discover 

exactly what happens

 to moments when they 


are finished, in this empty 

room? 


(c)Paul Goldman July 1, 2022 

[AI art by Paul Goldman, NightCafe]

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