How I Can Smell Like Dusts And Molds.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

i take a walk this morning
in this village of trees where there are no houses of
dwellers,
i am looking for a peaceful place as i carry with me a load of some
thoughts heavy on my hair
i do not think that i am being punished with these
i am just trying to take my time
listening to my own footsteps
to the sound of the leaves on those grasses and trees
a river walks along with me
that is how i see it
it is a water traveler wanting a companion
towards a far end
that it knows too well for i am but new here
a lost stranger to his view
a novice of distance

i bring peace in my heart, i have set some pigeons free
my gifts to the balding mountains and to the hills with brown grasses

no pen, no paper, nothing about personal computers or cellphones
no signal, i am satisfied,

i am sucking air, words are carried with it in my nostrils
the river smiles, flows, and winds itself like a snake smooth on the grass

i listen too much, i become this earth
the river winds around my hair, birds are building nests,
the owl sleeps for the night beside my ears,

how peaceful is this place, how foolish had i been for all those years
hiding behind those rooms and rooms of books,
which explains why the river says that i smell nothing but
dusts and molds.