Treasure Island

RIC S. BASTASA


R2


i let the darkness of dawn
fade away
as i sculpt metaphors
from the night that
gives me nothing

a restless night
an empty room
on dead lights and
dusty drapes

one from another world
could be another room and
another house
figures out that this must be
one happy world
of ponderous loners and
there are too many of them
worshiping the Word
bowing before no concrete
images
letting themselves be carried
by the fluidity of their own
thoughts: the three faces of time
its 24 nooks,
the fast ferries of its trips
hoping that one sees the
light houses in this dark moments
that in the following morning
when the sun is bright
one can see an island
one arrives at the port of destination
and then disembark
for good.

Submitted: Sunday, January 23, 2011
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