An Occurence.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

when things go awry
like some plates flying out of the kitchen
breaking their faces on the floor
one day
or in some other days of your liking
you become so engrossed
in your silence
your hands begin to pick up the pieces
pondering
the mind probes deeper
into some
recesses of memories long buried
in those layers of years
and then
your feet begins to decide to walk away
silence no longer
synonymous with silence
sounding more
like some winds wishing
for swan
songs....