14

for i am empty
my song is as blank as the
desert sand

there are no lyrics yet
except some
memories of us

there is no tune except
the passing of the wind

come beside me
and i will sing it with you

our distance
makes it a song of
despair

your promise
puts the notes in anticipation
like birds
on the telephone wire

you give me rain
on a song drying up
under the sun

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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