A Beginning Of Our Chase - Poem by RIC S. BASTASA

a little bird
has become one of your

overused, crass,
and sensitivities do
not mind it
at all

let it fly away from you
and feel the silence of
the iron rail
its coldness is like
the finger of
a dead man

now, let us talk a little bit
about the death of

and the escape of that
little bird
as a beginning of our

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, September 5, 2013

Poem Edited: Friday, September 6, 2013

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