Her Boredom..... Poem by RIC BASTASA

i am worried extremely by her
boredom, and i ask,
what if she goes mentally
deranged?

the quarantine is taking us
away from the shallowness of our beings,
the one that makes us float
and make us live,

we are taken deeper into the hollows
of the earth, as though we are dead and
are going to be buried,

that is dangerous i keep saying it to myself,
and i have to do something as early as now,

(for i have met the weakestself too that i am,
afraid of dusk, the one that speaks to me
candidly about my life, the fears keep appearing
in the dream,

the big house with antique chairs, three floors of
loneliness and misery,
the expected fall of this ancestry,
deep deep down in the unexplainable ruin
of the past and present,

there is no future she says it at night alone
in the veranda unable to sleep,
and now mumbling,)

and i realize that i must keep myself strong,
to help the weak, to carry them too, along with me
to this darkest tunnel, unto the light,

one day, we will be seeing a promise of a spark,
perhaps from a hole of a wall, or perhaps from
a leak of the ceiling,

of stone and roots in a cave where stalagmites and
stalactites finally in dead silence
meet.