Four Poetic Points For The Neighborhood To Ponder
i
it is that particular moment
when your tongue tastes the skin of the wind
and it shall tell you too about its long
and unfinished journey
it is this intimacy with the hands of the wind
the talk that both of you do more often under the moon
ii
it is when you sit on the floor
your back rests on the wall
it is this intimacy of self-talking upon itself
when the wall begins to respond
when the floor finally makes its comments
iii
the neighborhood begins to doubt you
but you have no doubt about yourself or the floor's sincerity
or the door's indulgence
or the intimacy with the wind and the wall
which offers you a buffer between emptiness and
chaos
eventually everything has come
smooth and natural
well folded like the waves
well covered like the mist on the tree tops
iv
what you have to serve to all these inquisitors
is an empty glass upon an imaginary tray
which they still have to figure out
why you are serving them the perfect drops of silence
for all their thirsts.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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