The Essence Of A Departure Poem by RIC BASTASA

upon leaving
another one passes me by
in fact has already decided to forget

perhaps realizing that i am another wasted time
or a shape of regret

an abandoned house where the grasses have become free
where birds begin to think that they own this beam

how many women slept here and rearranged their hair and looked at their faces
in that old mirror of the dusty room?

there is no attachment whatsoever
each is bound by the compulsion to leave because someone is waiting and waiting
and expecting for a meeting

falling leaves outside the winds are tossing them
you only hear the usual sound of the rustling but only for a time

and then back to the usual silence
that no one is interested to question

someone is familiar and shakes her head and shoulders
and we do not react because we fully understand