Externals.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

outside i hear murmurs
of children, shouts of mature men
calling their women,
sweeping the yard of dry leaves
from trees of last night's
storms

i hear screeching sounds of
cars heading to the city
rushing
as though they are always
late for
appointments

the school bus carries the
teeming sounds of
kindergarten kids whose mothers
keep on saying
God bless you all and i

who is supposed to be at work
in my cubicle
just a stone throw away from
where i am seated
still keeps on tracking voices
that cover the inner voice
of my longings

it is frail and fading
and humming and still wanting
to conceal the true notes
of its song

e.e. Cummings, it says,
it wants, the rhythm
of comings, but i must have been
in the wrong direction
for a long while now
i have always focused on the
ambulant sounds
of departures
loud and deep at first
and then
fading and thin
like a needle finally
dropping on the
hay floor.