Whom You Think Had Fallen Short Of Love Poem by RIC BASTASA

anything comes here and
goes there
just a matter of entrance
exit, door window, open space
sky, air, and tree
tops, then fall into the
grass, to join with the rest
of those that keep moving,
ants, hoppers, not, not detesting
the caterpillars, and
well, you know the story
about those that finally get
their wings back, as butterflies.

there is this feeling that
you have been there, been there
been there, nothing astonishing
as before, when you first saw
a gnat, an ass, a dumb nitwit,
a bee, that piece of sting sticking
in your navel,

a pin falling on the red carpet,
a burst of a gun, contrast of dark
and light, and words and silence,
and memories flashing in your mind,
black and white, oft white and
tangerine, mystical in your mind,
half asleep, half awake,

half-dead, but so awake, beside
someone, whom you think had fallen
short of love.