Afternoon Musings 7 Poem by RIC BASTASA

sometimes i miss a friend
who talks to me without knowing
what time is

one who is carefree and freewilling
like the way we blow the bubbles
of soap and water in the air
when we laughed so loud
when we were those naughty children

sometimes i miss the times
when we bathe in the river
naked with our innocence
plunging in the noise and the rage

of the rippling waters
and not thinking about
what we are or who we are
or what do we become of ourselves

i miss the times when we simply bask
under the sun to dry our wet tight bodies
when we close our eyes under such a strong light
and see the comfort of orangeness inside us

i miss the times when we simply sit on the grass
on early afternoons watching the sun setting on the sea
waiting till it becomes dark when the stars come
like an array of friends to the full moon slowly

ascending, and how all of them shine and though
so distant from us, they all appear to be happy

in that glimmer and glitter, on that summer
many years ago before the coming of death & despair