All About Nothing
A vacuum wanders down the stairs.
I tell some folk, but no one cares.
It staggers by without a thought.
I contemplate its being… not.
It vanishes, leaves ne’er a clue.
While saying zilch, as vacuums do.
Reflecting back upon the scene,
my eyes were sharp, my mind was keen.
I sensed my heart had not a care,
And then surmised, ‘twas nothing there.
Copyright © Robert Zimmerman | Year Posted 2024
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