Leo Spaceman

While sick one day on campus, I observed how the silence in an empty room can be filled with the sounds of life (in this case, my sniffles ringing off the tiled floor).

A Spring cold grips air
and nostril alike.
A fixed stare
on an empty space.

Nothing but the self
existing within space.
Noting the other-self
in the empty space.

Take note of external stimuli
repetition of a single key.
Take note and occupy
the empty space.

Space ever-expanding
by the internal clockwork.
Space is understanding
the lack thereof.