118 Poem by RIC BASTASA

mozart overture

this is quite different from
a trance
the music that curled in my sleep
on that soft blue sofa
foam, cotton, kapok softness
on my head some notes of
a lullaby
some notes getting into
my ears and my nostrils
a deep sleep
inhaling

this overture is quite different
it is the rising from this deep sleep of
kapok,
foamy softness

i rise and
stretch my hands to the ceiling

i wake up and
i hear
the notes come again like
dripping morning rain
from the nipa roof
falling on
some white pebbles
on my pavement

like my tears