There is a chair beneath the cherry tree.

Velvet red
upholstery peeling
off the yellow foam.

There are no cherries left, and no one in the chair.

Two emptinesses, therefore, commune
in the late cicada silence.

I would sit but, look, the seat is wet with August rain.Cameron Morse taught and studied in China. He is currently an MFA candidate at UMKC and lives with his wife, Lili, in Blue Springs, Missouri. His work has been or will be published in I-70 Review, TYPO, Otis Nebula, Sleet, Steam Ticket, Referential Magazine, Rufous Review, Small Print Magazine, Two Hawks Quarterly, and First Class Literary Magazine.