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This Is What I Really Mean
when i said to the wind
do not enter and try this sordid game
i did not mean that it must go away
and leave me here
struggling for another breath
grappling for something to hold
a pole, a stalk, a twig, a tree
imagining the beauty of the sea and a blue boat
the sun at noon and the moon sickle on the sky
why do you always misunderstand
my quest for reaching something far away from me
like a star so distant from my wishes?
when i said do not enter i mean it
watch me and be with me do not touch me
i am fragile as a new born rat
pink and helpless and so lovely
i should have told you i need you please
stay and sing me again the silence of your dreams
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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