Grapevine Poem by RIC BASTASA
Grapevine
every morning i put
landmarks
after having surveyed
night's domains
meeting people and
hearing their own stories
taking notes where i can
possible situate my feet
my hands are not fists
they are tributaries of fingers
i have seen worlds
compared it with mine
there is this empathy
that somehow redeems my losses
how wonderful is the listening
about the travails of suffering
it lessens mine
grapevine
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/25/2024 4:17:25 PM # 1.0.0.1119
