What We Are For The Meantime.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

and what did we do?
we simply stand there
and we said we have
nothing to do with it,

we are just the spectators
we write what we see and

we do not judge why all
these things happen

we never arranged the facts
like colors in a painting

we never chose the subject
or the place, they are there

we are in there but we are not
theirs, we do not belong.

we write with our own hands
did we claim that we have our own minds?

we did not. we are just the spectators.
we just record what we see. Our minds

are imprints of before and now. We
try to detach, we cannot. we just feel it.

soon this will be over and we will be
another kind of spectators, rising from

our bodies, like vapors from the heat,
we are not yet the rain. we are unseen.