The Edge of Emptiness

The Edge of Emptiness


It was always at night that I could hear the silence

Enveloped in an inky blackness under a canopy of a trillion stars

We sat around a fire of already scorched wood

An oud played and someone nearby sang mournfully

Often with exhileration there was a unison of hand clapping

A goat which had baked all day in its eartly oven

Was exhumed and with a salad arranged

A feast from nowhere in a place far from anywhere

Only faces were visible in the firelight

There was no fear despite the depth of darkness

We slept in the open wrapped in blankets

The stillness embued sleep

We were alone, exiled from the world in a wadi

on the edge of the Empty Quarter

◄ Quiet Desperation

In the twinkling of an eye ►


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Jason Phillips

Thu 17th Nov 2022 19:57

We sat around a fire of already scorched wood

Only faces were visible in the firelight

The stillness embued sleep

Keith, I've always loved reading your poetry. These three lines hit me and they hit me hard. They remind me of the time I spent in the mountains, as a child. They remind me of the pictures I've seen time and time again of the familial fun we used to have. Great memories hopefully reimagined through the eyes of my child(ren) someday.

Thank you Keith

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Stephen Gospage

Thu 17th Nov 2022 08:27

A great, atmospheric description, Keith. This poem really transports the reader.

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