The Thing In Itself
a white chicken
egg
on top of porcelain
saucer
beside
a silver spoon
the mahogany table is
one legged
with a big
round base keeping it
balanced
amidst this elliptical space
up the ceiling
is a round 220 bulb
lending light
to the room
the white egg stands
like a zero
above a underline
we let our gaze
stroll at the bridge
of our nose
we listen
how these things in themselves
relate to us
without words.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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