NDJ:8 Michael Harty

To a Blank Page

You have treated me this way before: stared at me unyielding as a lover who has changed her mind –

poker-faced as the Queen of Hearts, who sits impassive on her secrets, giving nothing away.

You are an empty plate,

a promise of abundance unfulfilled,

a diet with no calories;

a frozen untracked snowfield, unshadowed,

hiding every hint of stone or bush until April, at least;

a pitiless white desert sky, where buzzards cut and wheel above the bones of dead ideas.

Well, take that! I’ve put my marks upon you; your blankness is no more; you are defeated this time. 

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