The Unsaid Word..... Poem by RIC BASTASA

the consequence of this
poem is always:

there is still time.
tomorrow never ends.

i am into this poem
which gives me nothing at all.

i am the giver as always
subservient to its whisper

i sometimes took over the window
into the line of trees
from this oblongated soundings

the birds keep on chirping near
the house pecking on the unwary worms

the cars on the road are noisy with
the usual second hand engines and

then the children stopped playing
because the rain is profusely pouring

the time has changed, as mothers
overprotective of their kids no longer
want them to play under the rain

spontaneity is shut inside the mouth
as the esophagus still wants to spit it out.

here comes the lazy tongue still unable
to say the word: ............