Sailing, Sailing.... Poem by RIC BASTASA
Sailing, Sailing....
another face is always
in our mind.
that is what persistence
of memory is all about.
i see no melting clocks
or curving highways.
it is your face there
your body.
there is nothing in me
that gets old.
or just the body and
these hands.
the memory is as young
as a new butterfly
coming out from its
hard womb
hanging upon a
twig.
the moon hangs upon
the body of the sea.
sailing, sailing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 4:02:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
