I've been forlorn
Quite a while,
Darker
Than night mists
Around the Moon;
Void
As a wooden bucket
Fragmented
On the porch,
Unfit to hold water
However, presently filled
With dark leaves;
I believe that bucket
Is more joyful
Than me.
My arms
Emptier
Than leafless trees,
Also, nothing fills me…
Not dark leaves.
