RIC S. BASTASA

it is small
your stomach i am sure
is bigger
unlike your feet
it does not travel
unlike your eyes
it does not close
it is there
even in your dreams
your imagination
travels like the wind
to lands unknown
when you are hurt
the mind finds shelter in reason
unlike the heart
that weeps until all the tears
run dry
the mind is here but its essence
is out there groping in the dark
dancing with the winds
of change
sunbathing like you
wanting also
a little
tan.