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RIC S. BASTASA


my world


this is my world

walks in the morning
making me think
steps on the rocks
and mud and under the rain
shiver and quiver
and sighs and then
sunshine on my face
soft hands
on my chest

noontime is harsh
inside this cell
of the musts and oughts
and this and that
piles of papers
more readings to make
confusions and even
delusions
breathe and death
on installments
in the office and
this world of work

then sunset
orange and fading colors
remembering my youth
and combing my white hair
and touching her hand
reminiscing some promises and vows

we sit on a background of darkness
on a chair just the two of us
on a table our old hands rest
recalling the poems
we once wrote

then you turn off
the light
your head rests on my chest
my hand carressing your hair
we are so close
that when i sleep
i hear you hum
a lovesong
as you too close your eyes

Submitted: Tuesday, June 10, 2008
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