Read a poem by another poet written
on the same day:

Journal of the re-emptying

I'm wondering about orange and rock bottom
how to tell if something is fleeting (color)
          or a new seed
keep planting things where they don't belong
in the pang of wasted time

between the song that meant everything
and the angel that fell from the sky

between the last best breath
and the baking of bread

earth, air, water, fire, light

sped up too slowly
slowed down too fast
put to bed w/ an ache in the heart

10 minutes later
and the whole sky was asleep
it was as if the great snowy
          mountain          in the distance    had
waved them on

                              nothing to see here, folks
                              nothing to see