117 Poem by RIC BASTASA
117
the sounds of my day
it is four o' clock in the morning
this computers hums the loudest
the dogs howl on the road seeing strangers pass that early
i can hear the winds of dawn break
the engine of the bus
on the highway going to faraway Zambezi
the first trip i suppose
the clock is ticking
the door is clicking
some footsteps
on the road going away from me
they are all
sounds of departure
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 1:15:59 PM # 1.0.0.1119
