At Midnoon... Poem by RIC BASTASA

now what you hear is only the sound of the rain outside

there is no lamppost, it has been taken away just this morning,
understandably there is no need for light
there is no feeling that
in the brightness of a new day
darkness can have digits

but i heard of a man who carried his flashlight
at noon
declaring that this city is as dark as the deepest floor of the ocean
where the gods
of rage have been hiding

and he warns that the rage continues
that we honestly still feel this matter inside the guts
of these modern days

that sometime the ocean will bring its own darkness
with the storms at mid-noon

and we who take pride of the light and the
grasses of the earth
will have something to write

perhaps not really that gentle and calm
and perhaps we are too clumsy for this