The Island That Anger Makes
because the past is rude
and always angry
at me i also learned to be
one like it
it is always the anger that
energizes me
and day by day the anger grows
and spreads to every layer of
my skin
to every nerve
to every cell of my body
i do not look in the mirror
to see my anger that burns me
it will be too
frightening
time knows
it always knows what to do with anger
somehow there is another angle to anger
something that negates it
consuming nature
it makes an island
that is sufficient upon its own resources
it has strong trees
white sandy shores
virginal in its decision for isolation
one day a visitor comes asking to stay
for a while
all it can see is the goodness of the place
the peace of its isolation
the fertility of its
suppression.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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