When The Anger Is Gone Poem by RIC BASTASA

there is anger
plenty of it like ticks of a dog
like caterpillars
crawling upon the twigs upon the leaves of the trees
it is consuming everything that is green
and edible,

the night is a night of too much labor
until everything is eaten
and nothing is left but skulls and
skeletons

it is this anger that you do not know
that creates all the emptying
upon a night filled with so much patience

when the morning bursts with its own borrowed light
the trees are bare
everything turns into skeletal fingers
and too the worms are gone

it is this annihilation that i have been waiting for
i leave nothing
not even footprints since i leave none
since i have never been gone

but you will see no one
you will hear none at all
when this anger is gone