Succor.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

This is also a reality,
you can't say
it is peculiar
for me, it is
a common occurrence,

A dimming light
from an incandescent bulb
in a room dressed up
in darkness

look closely!
someone is engrossed
with a book
that promises to relinquish
him from the grip
of poverty and anguish

that it will
pull out the nails
driven to the palm
of our daily deaths

Now and again
to appease the pain
he shall place the sun
or
the moon, and the stars
or the blue
crystal ball
on the crimson ceiling
shrouded as he begins
to write his
verses
but when the weary eyes
and wounded heart say
that it is enough
we give up,
soon
the windows will open again
letting in the wind
to sing its songs
again