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mozart overture

this is quite different from
a trance
the music that curled in my sleep
on that soft blue sofa
foam, cotton, kapok softness
on my head some notes of
a lullaby
some notes getting into
my ears and my nostrils
a deep sleep
inhaling

this overture is quite different
it is the rising from this deep sleep of
kapok,
foamy softness

i rise and
stretch my hands to the ceiling

i wake up and
i hear
the notes come again like
dripping morning rain
from the nipa roof
falling on
some white pebbles
on my pavement

like my tears

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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