At This Hour, It Is The Deep Of The Night - Poem by RIC BASTASA

at this hour, it is the deep of the night
there is no wind blowing, i can hear the typing
of words
in this keyboard, this personal computer, writing,
because i cannot sleep, after we made love, because i am still
thinking what to do with my life,
what is the next move,
after love,
when there is no hate, because i have stopped feeling altogether
all those years,
and the years shall come slowly like some growing children
in your eyes, not seeing how the cells add to become their innocent eyes,
i am here again at midnight, then dawn,
2: 11 a.m.
that is the time here in this room
on this island
on this nook of the big, wide world,

time had made some divisions for all of us
for you it is morning, and for her it is noon,
but we are here writing at this moment for all different reasons,

some claim happiness and bliss and love and nature and hope,
i still claim my main reasons,

doubt, this sadness that has known how it is to write and be not able
to get a sound sleep, this lostness in space trying to find
where is everything
from nothing.

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, April 12, 2008

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