Table Lamp Poem by RIC BASTASA

Sooner we shall forget
that taste of sweetness

take a look at that
oil that sleeps upon a
smooth porcelain plate

it is the coldness that
makes some things hard

that makes us surrender
to the nook and we
cover our bodies with
what memory there is
to make us warm

when we are apart when
nothing is heard of

it is the darkness of this
room

the silence of the floor
the stillness of the door

upon a lock that makes life
so secure
that will lull me to sleep

and then the moon sails
pass by my window as i turn
myself off
like a switch of
a table lamp.