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for F.T.
gifted with the mind and heart
you decided not to use any of them
not to think and feel and love and desire
what is left then? a heart wilting a mind drying
you exist like an everyday occurrence
of sleeping and waking and going and coming
arrivals and departures become anything
a routine and so much like a door closing and opening
who is it and for whom and what for and why
to you it does not matter, this is nothing but everyday
you add no essence anymore not any seasoning
the fat in you melts and liquefies and turns to gas and evaporates
it lands as a smell of meat somewhere in the lawn
the people pass by the house like some shadows against the sun
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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