Torrential Vacuousness

by Grace Black

A rusted-bottomed bucket
will not collect the rain.

It can, however, fill
at an alarming rate.

The cold innards may retain
some memory of the acid wash.

There may be physics involved,
but I can’t recall the equation.

Either way, letters or numbers,
words or calculations,

you can’t collect the downpour and
expect to keep it, with oxidized veins.

Just another writer wearing down lead and running out of ink, one line at a time. Coffee refuels her when sleep has not been kind. Grace Black writes poetry and flash fiction and has been published in Three Line Poetry, 50 Haikus, 50-Word Stories, 101 Words, and 101 Fiction. More of her writing can be found on her blog