Something Harsh
something brash comes in the afternoon
life has overslept on the hammock of time
something harsh knocks on the door
you try to shoo it away and it comes anyway
less the courtesy of knocking or greeting
something insensitive sits on the sofa of
the house where life has been relaxing and
the confrontation begins which is actually
unnecessary, but just the same the inevitable
happens. Life has big ears, and the holes extend
from the right side to the left side, like north pole
tunneling its secret passage to the south pole
Life learns its lessons well. Now it does not bother.
It is not bothered. It sits like a young boy looking
over the window. It whistles a song to the sky.
It sleeps well on the ground where the grass
is green and cool, where dew is not a metaphor
for tears, where black birds assume a new meaning.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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