Treasure Island

RIC S. BASTASA


Someone Lives Alone


someone lives alone
even with a wife and child around him

he can always feel the dusk
even at noontime

someone feels the wind
fresh, even inside a vacuum
of a bottle of wine tightly covered
by its cork

someone remembers
water
in the years of dried river
beds

she can feel
still the hands
that pressed her breasts
even if what she has for presence
are just ashes
under her barren feet

someone still knows the
happy meaning
of flowers
beside those silent tombs

someone lives the hours in silence
even in the middle of protests

someone still loves and continues loving
even if he is abandoned

someone still knows the story by heart
because the books are burned

these are the poetic moments
and we have,
we still have all these

we never learn, we do not ask
we do not even search all these
in far away places

or in the foxholes or
under the bed

they are within the reach of the hands
of our hearts

so near, that sometimes we conclude
these moments are nothing

but us, or if you are that sharp enough
like a polished nail

in those lonely days of your past lives,
and still getting stronger and stronger
soon you shall declare

it is, I.
just I.

Submitted: Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, October 30, 2013
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