vessel rituals

[Meow]

we are so empty, bare
while our tiny little leaves fall gracefully from the trees
a temporary blanket
we may hide in for the winter

we are so empty
within it all
there is nothing, nothing
beneath Christ's tree that
will bring us swelling
like the rising of the Sun
on a summer's morning
or the rippling of the waters
against our toes
nothing like the kissing of twilight
and the sharing of our hearts

only plastic covered skeletons
of still life to consume our
time
but nothing else
and still we starve