A Game Of Words In Circles Poem by RIC BASTASA

dismiss these words as nothing but fireflies
moving in circles around the crown of a tree
on a very dark night,

for these works of the wind are nothing
but images of ghosts
whirling on top of my head all

for nothing but a play of mental drawings
moving and moving in circles
in imaginary skies

believe me not,
i am just a poet, and a beginner at that,

move on with your life, and think
of something else, your future

your ambitions, your love
and desire, keep moving on

and leave me, i am drunk with
poetry, and i whirl on top of

my table, filled with words, that
i touch with my hands

something that i cannot tell you
because i know, you too from the

start, understands them all,
like my face in the dark, that

you have always loved, and
yet can never hold.