Cocoon

After years of binge my hunger
was suddenly gone    I became still

for three whole minutes during which
a curt north wind dusted my sills

with a memory of ice  everything changed then
I put aside my sickle and walked from the field

though the day was young and found
a shade in which to begin I did not think

about the task beyond that it felt when noticed
like nothing more than breathing

I began with nothing to show
and soon a veil of fibers around my feet

and soon a quilt that felt like knowing
how to dance and dancing well

and so I spun for what else
was there to do I no longer went

out I didn’t know how to be
a friend or father I didn’t know

what a lover was I stopped
pretending the world was to blame

I was inside with no story
to save me from myself

Apologia

Whoever said stone is unfeeling
does not know the measure of all feeling.

Channeling stone can save those that
would float away into realms of grief.

Holding against the storm,
I sit with my wife as she sobs.

I am, with my life,
carving my apology from this stone.

The Return

Here I am again,
staring out the window,

watching nothing
in particular happen

to the trees. I hear
a raven make

from nothing
a sound like a drop

of water—that
sound falling


into the cavern
of my brain.

How does one aim
toward nothing

without tripping
into nihilism?

I banished the drink
in order to live.

I returned
to myself

by making room
for nothing.

John Doe
Poet, Independent Writer
IN CONVERSATION WITH
Matthew Nienow