May 17th, 2023Local lines…

Holes
A hole is not nothing.
It is not mere space. Space is out there.
A hole is bounded. It is defined
by its borders.
To have a hole in your heart
you must have a heart.
To dig a hole is to create
a dirt-rimmed space.
A hole may be a necessary part
of the whole.
Intactness only lasts so long.
The hole must out.
A hole in your jeans or your jumper
exposes what lies beneath.
So you don’t ever actually see
the hole itself.
Neither can a hole be touched
any more than can a feeling.
Reach for it – or in it – and all you’ll find
is your fingers – or an edge.
The whole world may in fact
be a hole
and substantiality
just what forms up around it.
Words: Bill Wootton
Ed’s Note: Bill had a hole in his poetry schedule for The Local so he wrote this. Donna filled a
hole on the page with it. Local Lines features poetry by locals about local and any other matters.
Please submit poems to Bill Wootton at cottlesbreedge@gmail.com