A Wednesday Treat Poem by RIC BASTASA

Wednesday, at the middle of this array,
you doubt, where to?

you want to be back
or you want to go forward?

they have forgotten you
and you try standing at the center of the kiosk

a pity, this pity asking for attention
and they all pass by without looking at you

there is simply no change expected on a Wednesday
there is this shuffling of shadows

gaze not fixed at all on the wall
it is the same rain, the road, the trees

you give up this madness for a name
you take your slippers and wear them and then go away