Every Thousandth Poem - Feb. 6, 2026

you’d think

my sunny marriage

two bouncy hearts on eight furry legs

and creating poetry every day would

fill all the holes in my life

and almost always

they do

but even

in front of this fire

on this clear cold night

I’ve fallen into a desperately

hollow space with a certainty

that something important is missing

as if I was a bird who’s wing has

cramped and suddenly can’t fly

or a cloud that’s grown

too heavy to float

and is falling

to earth,

as I sit here in misery

waiting for God

or someone

to pour

something

warm into my soul