Nothings

James Bowden

I’m lying in bed, facedown past noon.
There are times when nothing means anything.
No word, no sound, no thought enough to move me
When nothing but a soft hug will do,
preferably with a little nuzzle.
And soon.

Of course, it is in these times that I think of you.
Nothing can be done, so I close my eyes and go to.

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I liked the rhyming in this little poem of sorts.