Our Very Own Sounds.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

we are but one of those raindrops
when we listen to how we sound
we always refer to the cacophony
of the massive rain and we do not

really figure out clearly the sound of
ourselves and when we describe it
we say we are the cicadas singing
during summer nights blending with

the sighs of the dry leaves and with
the wind we tell them that we are bleeding
but that soon we shall be healed and
what sings most in their silence are

the scars, No longer threatened no longer
scared.