A Wheelbarrow

a wheelbarrow
is a mere wheelbarrow

even if it is not
red or glazed
with rain water

it is
what it is
just a wheelbarrow

but look beneath
ourselves in the forest of our wanderings

there are trees there
growing in the dampness of darkness
looking for light

a river comes flooding
that is where

meaning sprouts
upsurging emotions
now without walls coming before your fences

a wheelbarrow
is not the same wheelbarrow anymore

emotions
your emotions made it
for not what it is

transmutation
from William to you and this world
looks not familiar
anymore

petals of meanings
red so real
thorns and stalks and dews

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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