We Bury Our Burdens
we carry a sack
full of everything
the trivial and not so trivial
to the others
which we sometimes
deem to be
important
we start cramping things
in a small pack
a pair of shoes, a plaque,
a bat, white polo shirt,
underwear, the certificates,
some poems even
a book about
romance with some
molds on the hard cover
where shall i bury all these things?
for i am moving to
another place
this morning
i wait for the high tide
or which comes first
the dusty early morning
on the road
this cranky motor vehicle
bound for the
dry mountain
where a hole is ready
tagging a shovel
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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