Always Moving On Poem by RIC BASTASA

the past
is just a set of some
grammatical errors
which i do not
wish to correct
because they are understood
to mean
what you think
too is right
but is too tired to
comment
or change

one does not have
the time to go
back and
fret and
edit
because there is so much
to write
to put into the concrete pavements
once again
to choose and
discard
to begin again a new
sentence
putting the first word on
paper
bulbs lighting
a new day
sun rising from the
east
and then suddenly
as you look again
on the screen
and look out to the
window
it is another sunset
and it is
too beautiful to speak
or write

there is no jutting down now
it is just plain
gazing
your hands on the table
all pens up
and you surrender to
such ending

it is too beautiful to behold
and then
at night some other dreams

let the letters then
reorganize themselves
let the errors
reorder what should have been
or
ought to be

now i am moving again
into another depth
another milestone