Treasure Island

RIC S. BASTASA


A bruised reed he shall not break, and a smoldering wick he shall not quench,


reflection
upon the clear pond of the mind
at dawn

someone so gentle
meek
renders justice upon
the earth
all the trees and wind
bow

he comes without a kill
no devastation as a flood
or fire
no nuclear leaks
no quakes

he does not shut off
the light
neither grass or
weed
he shall not remove
burn

he is a word
but he will last forever
he is eternity
he dies but death has not
conquered him

Submitted: Sunday, April 17, 2011
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