Bottom, Falling
Through that window you see another bird
rising, unlabeled, unwanted, yet noticed.
A limb’s last leaf. The boy’s breath.
Like the morning after your father died,
when temperature didn’t register
and heat shallowed through the morning’s
end. Still you shivered. Glass. Wind.
Night’s body. How to calibrate nothing’s
grace? Take notes. Trace its echo. Try.
“Bottom Falling” was published in Into the Void in October 2016, and is included in my chapbook, From Every Moment a Second.
O at the Edges 
I realize I just shared one of yours, but i really appreciated this… so shared it’s been. Just a courtesy. 🙂
https://grumpysgiftspoetry.org/2020/05/07/bottom-falling-robert-okaji/
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Thank you, Anthony. I’m honored.
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What better way to calibrate nothing’s grace than to trace its echo. Brilliant! Tracing the echo requires attentive listening … likely to reveal traces of something amid the nothing, something of value … but first one must be still and listen … probably for longer than conventional attention spans.
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Some never realize the difference between hearing and listening.
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