messengers

There is nothing there
said the bunny
looking
straight
to the hollow

There is nothing there
Even sound
from the drop
From yours
the eye

Nothing there
none
Even the world
which occurs
And disappears
when
hides
sun

Nothing there
is not even
our

tired
postmen
from the sky

wearing
bags
letters

on which there is no
address

speculating
that they
to ourselves

and that about
our

happy
life