A Veranda Without You Poem by RIC BASTASA

gone were the days
when the veranda keeps a man
to fill its empty space
to watch again those countless
stars in the heavens
at night
when everyone is gone
to sleep

it is those books
those black and white letters
those rules and laws
they are those that took the man
away from it

how can this veranda sing again tonight?
how can an evening rain retain its meaning?

all these laws
unromantic and so unkind
all these men
have since then
become schemers
of cunning