Ennui Of The Common Worker.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

it is something
that we write every
morning that
we put a little sun
between the hills of
our routine

fingers of sunshine
to caress our weary hair
chirping birds and
soft whispers of sea breeze
to make us work so
well on the day ahead.

it is something that
we write that provides
another landmark
to this usual journey of
the working people

something to cherish and
remember before we all
succumb to the common
deaths of ennui
to the usual surrender
of everybody's
malady.

a white flower in the
garden of our mind
perhaps a moon at night
when we all come back
for the supper that had
gone cold and for
those who have not
yet arrived
when midnight comes.