Like A Jar In A Vacuum. Poem by RIC BASTASA

The words link us
and shadows begin to take the gestures of hands
opening into some tributaries of fingers
wanting to clasp the essence of water

the river is murky at first but the swimmers do not mind
it is summer and the sun is trying to kill us and so we like
to drift on the salt of our lost thoughts

but words as you know are always empty like jackets
hanging on the railings of the stairs
soon they fall and we want for more

'we shall meet sometime' we are meeting at this converging
wish, 'there is an island and i have a house there where the flowers are dying'
you say sadly about how you miss a home

' i will travel for seven nights and days, just to see those dying flowers'
i responded
and ' i will bring water' my heart is whispering

if this is true then this can be the beginning of a changed world for me
' i will wait', your voice is weak

for nights i've been thinking
i am hurt and the world is prepared for more dosage of pain
i know, when i will be there in that island

the flowers must have already died
and the cottage will be mute like a jar in a vacuum.