A Short Break Of Intimacies

i sit again here
at the tip of the
hill
under a lone
coconut tree
which stuck
after the
storm

i watch the light
between the hills
as the sun
arrives
on time

the shadows
slowly disappear
the mists dissolve
upon their
own fluids
turning to
dry leaves
finally left out
to be
themselves

i may be sad
as you see me
and conclude
that after all
i have lied
to the pages of
my own
book

but i got one
consolation
in here at the tip
of the hill
alone
i think i can see things
better
when you are
faraway

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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