A few lines...

…not about war
looming on the horizon
and not about
life or
death
or anything remotely
in between…
not about
the sweet scent of
pinewoods hugging the river
or this jaundiced
whispering moon
plundering our
senses in sleepless nights

not about
words
plans
debts of peace
or dreams unfolding
of ebony and ivory
and not about
wanderlust
or midsummer night’s
streets and squares
soothing
heartaches
with white noise

not even about
layers of sound
or deserted palaces
in winter dawns
and certainly not about
cars and lotto
anyway

these lines
- with a gentle whiff of scotch -
about nothing
are nothing
but
a little prayer for silence
and nothingness

Into starlight.