Echoes Of Yesterdays Poem by RIC BASTASA

when i sleep with you
i listen to the echoes of your moans
in the hills
i hear every word that misses
the pointless
the phrase that needs badly
a clause
to complete the periods of life
the commas of death
the exclamation of
surprises
there is no end to this quest
for the meaning
of my skin
the maps of love that fingers
closely monitor
the nests of forgiveness
still birds
without wings
clipped claws
and blank stars to the boundless
horizons
bluish afternoons
on shadows of trees
and hills on fading colors
green then black