A Story To Tell....
the images of light
like needles from the sun this morning
actually, there are no threads
and nothing to sew
actually, there are no significances
except some few
every word must have a story for you
and you may ask me
but always i agree to disagree with you
words have their own lives their own existence
i am only a vehicle
i am only a body to this ghost
for we are nothing but wings of some black birds
that hover on our backs
when they are through they all leave us
and they take all the wings they have given us in our imagination
we fall asleep and when when we wake up
we check if we are still us mirrored in the pond of still waters
our hands touch our faces
sliding through our smooth bodies
then we say, goodbye black bird
and thank you for making us live all over again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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