How Can I End Something That Does Not Leave Me? Poem by RIC BASTASA

at this hour
i hear the sounds of a sweeper

it just rained today
and i am watching how it ends

in the balcony of the house
where the road is empty

the woman across the road
is sweeping the leaves

the wind as usual blows
and then leaves what it cannot

carry,..very much like us
very much like that woman

she sweeps and groups the leaves
and leaves them all there

only to be blown by the wind
again as i watch what too

i cannot carry with me for
i am just a spectator whose

deep thoughts are carried by
the wind only to be left inside

with me again. How can i end
something that does not leave me?