Memories Bury. The Past The Future Meet Again With Both Hands Open. Poem by RIC BASTASA

he never loved you.
you are the fruit of
necessity. He was the
child who was hungry
for the ripe fruit. His
hands are small and you
are such a luscious
fruit for the caprice
of his teeth and tongue.

did he not have any
other option? below him
is the river, up there
is the sky. The clouds
are too thick for him
to see the other side
of his smallness.

the narrow universe keeps
you intact. There is only
one corner of his life.
Then you are rotten. What
is left of you is the seed
without pulp.

the rain is good for both
of you. He hides under the
roof of your comfort.
In the far ground where you
are thrown away,
life begins again.

and this he did not know.
for he had become a tall man
and he is ready
to trek the mountain on
the other side of the
house.

lots of sunshine then.
and more adventures.
life dies. Memories bury.
the past the future meet
again with both hands
open.