Empty Bottles

Light filters amber,
penetrating the bottles on the window sill
bringing color into a drab room,
empty bottles
that others perhaps would have thrown away,
that others in fact have thrown away,
convinced that they hold no worth
without their potions and poisons
to give them value,
unaware that the emptiness
holds the most precious commodity of all:
possibility.

About this poem

Some days I feel empty. Some days I feel full. I used to think empty was bad, but I have learned better. Empty, while dangerous, opens us to the possibility of……. anything.

Tom