In The Desert Of Your Lamentations Poem by RIC BASTASA

in the dream
we touch and i am
free
like rain falling
on everything

it is different
when i wake up
and you are gone

these guilt like
thorns pierce
my hands and i
bleed
as you watch
in the quiet
of spring

and i have become
its main rose
when winter comes

the tree is real

stable upon earth
confident of its
leaves and trunk
rooted

and steady and
mindless
of the seasons
and the
travelers who
stop for a while
talk a little and
then move on
with their lives
leaving you
alone again
in the desert of your
lamentations