Date: Tuesday 6th, May 
Location: Melbourne, Victoria 
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Poem:

if there is nothing to say,

perhaps, I am empty.

a bowl with no fruit,

an ocean with no waves

I have been conditioned to overflow

to pour honey in every mug

aching to warm hands without gloves

and find way to move light through cracks

sometimes there is nothing to say

the flowers don't need turning

or blooming

there is enough food on the table

and the bread,

simply,

needs time to rise.

you forget

I forget

the power of nothing

of saying

of doing

of feeling

so if you have nothing to say,

rejoice.

sit with it

come again,

and admire the empty fruit bowl.