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Nights

There’s nothing that I really want:
The stars tonight are rich and cold
Above my house that vaguely broods
Upon a path soon lost in dark.

My dinner plate is chipped all round
(It tells me that I’ve changed a lot);
My glass is cracked all down one side
(It shows there is a path for me).

My hands—I rest my head on them.
My eyes—I rest my mind on them.
There’s nothing that I really need
Before I set out on that path.

—Kevin Hart

Poetry 180

About the Poet

Kevin Hart is the author of 13 poetry collections, including Morning Knowledge (University of Notre Dame Press, 2011).

Learn more about Kevin Hart at Poetry International Rotterdam.