...What Do I Have Here, Anyway? ..... Poem by RIC BASTASA
...What Do I Have Here, Anyway? .....
a mysterious voice from the crevice
softy, gently teases him, it will be 2017
your time to go, and he listens intently like
a child to his mother holding his hand
with the strength of an iron pole and he smiles
to the air, gently, softly, like a wind to his
hair, it is time to go, i know, he keeps saying,
and muttering later, at any rate, what do i have here?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/23/2024 3:59:32 AM # 1.0.0.1119
