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4 U
my day is over
i will not die, i shall take my rest
i will brush my teeth
and check my face
about the suspicion of another wrinkle
of another white lock of hair
or another loss of
a beard
or an encroachment of more
hairless forehead to the
center of my head
i have no fear of these changes now
that my day is over
i am anticipating a mellowed self
one that makes a sigh
and care for nothing less and
nothing more
something perhaps that will give
the excitement of a riddle
a puzzle
something to solve inside a dream
in complete multicolor
like a hybrid rainbow
whatever that be
before i sleep tonight
i shall remember you
whoever you are
My God.
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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