RIC S. BASTASA
The Sound Of Morning One Summer Time.... - Poem by RIC S. BASTASA
she goes out leaving an empty bed
and you are still heavy with your head.
the window is open: the silence comes
faint, like the grey color of stone,
the world attracts you with its wonders,
the birds have awakened from their sleep
now fly in the skies, hop from tree to tree,
swarm the spaces, look for worms and grains
and feed their young, how small are their nests
how they not know how to store food in their
stockrooms which humans construct for themselves,
how humans like us build a future, and yet how
still insecure, how unhappy, and how tense
the tread upon life, how their brains must have
mistrusted, the Hands that made them.
how sorrowful the sound, how fearful the steps,
how sleep is unsound, how the rain is disliked.
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