We Are Still Safe With The Rain.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

they once tell us
it is hard to live in one house with
secrets.

we are not convinced. we had secrets
all over the house. and even in the garden.
she even plucked her secret from one of
the trees in the park.

is it a secret if one pretends not to know?
it is still. We agreed.
sad secrets specially are kept with a will
to deny it even if a friend makes an appointment
with her in the church, and revelations are made
after a prayer, or with the priest.

i guess love understands secrets.
love even conceals what we know.

we had secrets in the roof and we never
really mind.
new secrets are found in the pigsty but we
keep on feeding the pigs.
nice roasts sometime.

i strictly keep a secret inside my pocket.
smaller than a pebble, but it is my life.
it is my sphinx, and there are questions
which if my love answers at the end of
these pretensions

my world shatters into pieces
like a nitrogen frozen dead body.
and when i am gone,
all the secrets go with me.

it is hard to justify this enigmatic
probabilities and realities.
but it is here. we are happy and we
live in one roof.

and so we are still safe with the rain.