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Time Does Not Make Me Notice
been away
and been busy
the usual answer
to any inquiry
this time
i sit upon a chair
facing the sea
on the porch of the
old house
that papa left me
when he died
five years ago
the bamboo
on the side facing
the big mountains
has grown tall
and its leaves
are outreaching
the trees
i feel so small
like a sparrow
and i feel the
wings unfurling
feathers on my
sides
i have long
wished for this:
flying away from here
and not coming back
now it is a reality.
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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