My Mornings Here Poem by RIC BASTASA

in this sleepy town
where there is always rain
i thrive on the songs
of little birds
their notes chirping inside
my mind

i feed them grains of poetry
and they appear healthy

i grow some trees where
they nest and lay eggs of ideas

in this sleepy town
my burdens are light
my canvass is the darkness of the night
my hope is a star
hanging on the tree without leaves

a cocoon opens and gives birth
to another yellow butterfly

it flutters and finds a white daisy
and they kiss

i watch wrapped by the rays of the morning sun
i ponder if this will ever end