A Friend, A Woman, A Widow, The Old One Poem by RIC BASTASA

where have we gone
on those years that dance in the music
of hushes and whispers?

those merry widows
painted their faces
as they grow into
the folds of their old age

she is one of those
who dreamed
from nipa huts to the
ice castles of her
fantasies

she thought she can
stay forever
like that... forever

but no woman stays a woman
throughout her journey
she assumes some shapes
to survive
some have turned into camels
in the arid desert
some polar bears bear the earmark
of womanhood in their cold
noses

her body knows when
the right time is right there in her mind
but there is one thing that makes the sound
of her permanence...

that she must always be free to be
...forever