When You Exhort On A Certain Reality
it is this early morning
when you begin to recall what you
want to say last night
it was something horrible so you
decided after all
to keep it within yourself as
another secret
but then like a smoke from the chimney
some things simply escape
from their form and shape and show
themselves to the open skies
this very early morning you write
what you refuse to say
and then things reshape themselves in automation
like clouds and then they drift away
floating and there
you let them go
you let them be themselves
and here you are unattached
like a button removed from its cloth.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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