The Usual Choice Poem by RIC BASTASA

after the rain
comes summer
something wet
dries up
the pain ebbs
like a
hidden creek
without an
exit

remember
those playful baths
the chase
the fun and
unsubmerged laughter
we were once
young
and unpredictable
so much
joy
no thoughts
no rules

forty seven summers
and we learn
the meaning of rain
odds and evens
wrongs and rights
being still
like a tree without the
wind

summertime
it will be fun
but not for us
anymore

spectators of
the stars
hiding bodies from
midday
light...