nothing
 

My hand touches nothing
reaching far inside
swirling the whistful mist
stirring the dust of dried up dreams

the frozen air
stoney and solid
as if to say
"you cannot grow, here"

without light which my idols had
the grass lies not green nor brown
but cowering deep in the ground
seeds who fear their day will never come

Wow, This is really good. I like your emotions here. Thanks for sharing.

thank you Hal... i enjoy your poetry... it touches on my own feelings and often seems like you surely must have been talking about me *soft laugh*... God does that sound narcissistic...

what i am really trying to say is that a good poem... directly touches each person who reads it... as if it was their own...
yours definately falls into that category... *warm smile*... thanks for sharing such personal stuff.

OMG!
Halx that leaves me speechless.
Which is rather hard to do as most would know!

Masterful.

This is pretty fucking good, actually. Have you submitted your stuff yet?

sounds like a cry for ones seed
to make purchase
in fertile soil.

Damn the torpedos
Full speed ahead.