No Comment Poem by RIC BASTASA

that night i look at him

the first time i met him
he was not that old really
his smile was like a quarter moon
with two stars
at the middle of his cheeks

that night, after five years, i look at him again

he has thinned a lot
his eyes are like sinking boats
the face is one dark cloud
stars have faded
and there is no more moon in his smile

time is rushing, and has always been a cruel transformer

my wife could not believe
how his misery has uglified him

we have struggles like him
but we did not bother much

did we claim that we are lucky?
nope. Dude we just know how to hide the creases

rationalize the lapses
and perhaps, accept the fact that we are but pilgrims
of the night

time is our only alliance
the sooner we die
the greater the gratitude

did you not say once that punctuality
is a respect for time?

we like to be punctual
in almost everything: old age, misfortune, early arrivals,
and final destinations.

did we claim that we are happy, or happier than them?
dude, no.

we did not say anything.

we are just the spectators.

we did nothing to make ourselves
different than all those who took their graceful exits.

in a minute we said hello
and in another minute, we say goodbye.

In theory that is what is life all about.
In practice, well, don't make it complicated.

simplify it. No comment.