RIC S. BASTASA


16 - Poem by RIC S. BASTASA

my mind drifts
in the space of
thoughts
passing by
some trees
i gather thoughts
bunches
of gloss and
refinement,
every morning
i take the pleasure
of putting them
here, lest they
go away, like
fading light
like a voice
suppressed
in silence.


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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 30, 2010



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