For Grandpa.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

after this
aridity when this
well finally
dries up
when the sound
of emptiness deepens
and then rises
towards light, i,
this survivor
dew less, shall
begin, another spring
when the rain
pours again
and fills the drain
whatever time,
(i perhaps will
be 70 then
like grandpa
without fear
i shall open another
door and
go my way towards
a new path
be it muddy or
dusty,
what did they
say who he was
?

great, old
carabao eating
young grass,

no one tells
him what to do
with what has
remained out
of his
lonely life...

and he did it
well
till death...