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Nothing – A Poem

Jan 10, 2014

The following is an original poem I wrote way back in college when I took a poetry class as part of my creative writing major. I had never been very good at writing poetry. Or maybe I just wasn’t super interested in it.

My professor encouraged all the students to keep a writing journal and jot down thoughts and poems. I would sit in bed with my journal propped on my leg and try to think of something to write, something that could maybe turn into a poem. My mind would wander. I’d think of the sounds around the house, and something would come out of my pen. Something like this:


Almost nothing.

The fridge drops.

You know,

that sound—

the clunk.

I hear it every night

as I lay here.

The rest of the house is quiet.

Everyone is asleep.


Sounds cold.

But not as cold as the winter—

this last winter,

when the heat was out

and I carried a blanket

through the house.

I rub my forehead,

working to stop

the thoughts―

the thoughts that

keep me up,

the ones that widen

a gulf

between me

and the asleep.

I hear the drop again,

then a new sound.

What was that?

The sound,

it shakes and shudders.

Then silence again.

Now I can’t decide.

Am I hot or cold?

I pull my legs

from the blankets,

then shove them

back under.



It doesn’t matter.

Soon I will be asleep.

I hope.

I know it is not the fridge,

the winter cold,

or the furnace

that keep me awake.

But I can’t think

about it.





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