Contemplation At The Beach House.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

they have written
almost everything under
their sun

there is nothing
to remember and copy

perhaps i will just
stay here and think for
myself

what happened here
and what is going to happen
later

i can tell the mussels
on the swamp the way they
breathe water

i like the wooden boat
tearing the river into
shreds

there is still joy in
diving 60 meters away
upon a cliff

someone has to rake the
dry leaves and then you
feel clean

when the rain comes
something is always
renewed

the nipa roof of this
hut and the silence of
the trees

something is missing
always missing
i still wish i know it
now.....