Waiting For The Metal Ride.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

At a certain age, a certain point,
one gives up what is important
what was inherited
what was learned,

now everything is taken for granted,
if they come, they must go
if they arrive they must leave
if something really important is being raised
we simply nod, and if there is a disagreement
we also shake our heads,
i am telling you this the gateway to absurdity,
the lounge of all honesty
we sip tea, we sit cool, we look by the window
we see metal wings, we wait for the final call,
we show our boarding passes,
without a word, we take our ride

back to nowhere.