An Afternoon Poem

When i write this one,
this general idea about something
with nothing definite in particular
falling short of the images required
of a poem,
i really have no audience in mind
i am just writing like talking a walk or
sitting on a bench watching some of you
passing by,
definitely, this is an afternoon poem
and that is what is definite about it

i am tired
but i cannot rest
when i arrive in the house
only the dogs meet me
there is no one here
no note
left on the fridge
there is only this silence that keeps
me company
and the image of the wagging tail of
a dog
the only loyalty that seems
to abide by the rules
of this
game, well,
i should not be surprised
it has been this way
and i like it that way now
this nonirritating
spectator

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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