The Whirling Skies.... Poem by RIC BASTASA
The Whirling Skies....
it is the command of this flesh
that one could cheat
so neatly and without any trace
of regret or
remorse, it is this secret pleasure
of the bones
that guides you to the softness
of your own sleep, a conscience resting
on a heap of living leaves,
a body lying in the silence of the soul
staring on the journey of the stars
above those trees, the whirling skies.
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 8:19:47 AM # 1.0.0.1119
