Treasure Island

RIC S. BASTASA


a metaphor for myself.....


early afternoon
i undress and walk towards the water

it is a gray moment
i wade into the water
it is clear
and i can see some fish and
sand at the bottom

i am alone
it is too peaceful away
from everyone

the water is lukewarm
derived from noon
and the shore is too private
to myself

the trees are still and the cottage
has an eye
staring at me from afar

i swim farther, into the depths
floating

there are no seagulls
a ship with a smoke shears the
far horizon

Submitted: Sunday, April 22, 2012

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