The Honest Corrector... Poem by RIC BASTASA

when there is something that is missing
you supply the lapse
and i begin to develop that trust,

words are not the only non-living thing
that are misspelled,
others, who despite, their massive
experience of this
daily world,
do not know how to spell at at times
and we move in places where our heads are
marked for correction
we wear the red of errors
and nobody dares to tell us,
they just don't care at all,

with you i am safe, and no matter how
erroneous my life had been or will be,
i am secure,
you are there to correct this life,
and i go to sleep
soundly

warm inside that blanket
beside you....