Treasure Island

RIC S. BASTASA


the green grass of your home...


they are the silent witnesses
of my first love
those spreading green grass of your home
away from mine
when we first kiss and when we finally made love
sweet juices flow on such blanket of green
so fresh then warm...

they shall be the same silent witness of my last breath
those wilting grasses of your home
away from mine
when we finally part and when the wreath is placed
above my home
away from yours
the elegy shall be said and the dirge shall be played
and the wilting grasses shall have heard
the sounds of my
final rest.

Submitted: Tuesday, January 18, 2011
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