4: 39 A.M. Poem by RIC BASTASA

the strong wind keeps on blowing
howling
above the house and the trees bending
in different directions

there is this sound of tin roofs
about to be blown away
i hear them
and feel the fury
of someone
coming

to the mind of my wife
it is nothing
but a typhoon coming
on schedule
as predicted by the weather bureau
yesterday

and to her
i am just overdoing thoughts
and things
playing always
the role of the poet
even when
the wind is the wind
and nothing
but the wind

and nothing else