THE EMPTINESS

When the house was taken down
the air that for so long
had been parcelled into rooms
drifted into the day and was lost there.

There were no windows anymore
for the sunlight to fall through,
or landings to rest on, and it fell now
in long beams on the bare ground.

In time the last of brick dust
was carried off by the wind
and there was only the emptiness,
something like the emptiness

that the horse-drawn wagons,
laden with new bricks,
with window frames and tiles,
had first pulled up at.

by Simon RICHEY, in "THE POETRY REVIEW", Volume 105:3, Autumn 2015