Something Harsh Poem by RIC BASTASA

something brash comes in the afternoon
life has overslept on the hammock of time

something harsh knocks on the door
you try to shoo it away and it comes anyway

less the courtesy of knocking or greeting
something insensitive sits on the sofa of

the house where life has been relaxing and
the confrontation begins which is actually

unnecessary, but just the same the inevitable
happens. Life has big ears, and the holes extend

from the right side to the left side, like north pole
tunneling its secret passage to the south pole

Life learns its lessons well. Now it does not bother.
It is not bothered. It sits like a young boy looking

over the window. It whistles a song to the sky.
It sleeps well on the ground where the grass

is green and cool, where dew is not a metaphor
for tears, where black birds assume a new meaning.