Llamó Despacio A La Puerta Poem by RIC BASTASA

it will take
years
as what father did
once
when he was still
alive
once when he left all
of us
for another country
another house
another love another
memory
before he comes again
to knock gently on the
door of the house
that had been abandoned
completely by all of us
when what he touched was
only dust
when what he breathed was
only the sighs of the walls
what he did there
how could we know?

we were then busy with
our own journeys

you build a new house
in Nanking
i traveled on a train bound
for Beijing

we visited mother in
the Netherlands
we love the scent of flowers
in Heidelberg

where did he die? when?
where was he buried?
who knows? we were not interested
and we did not know

it was too late for us to know
the gentle knocks of the door
on that abandoned house covered
by those banyan trees
nameless in the country of our
past.