Drifters Poem by RIC BASTASA

there is no motive here
it is just like flying not even for the love of air

i have no wish for wings
neither do i have a feather

i fly on the invisible wings of my thoughts
drifting for the sake of nothing but just drifting

because i am drifting and i do not stop it
it could be that it is locating a drift

a shore of the winds, an island of gusts,
it is following a river of memories

memories are drifters too
and so are all the rest of these hanging wishes

uncertainties like molecules making a room for
their unseen randomness, the chaos that we never see

because we are attuned to order
to the stillness of wood and panel

picture a bowl of fruits
the mind has painted.