Between The Lines Of Our Longings

i offer you some words like three white carnations
on the table of our existence
between us is this distance
a sea of silence
and you look at me and begin to speak
what i see are but waves arriving to my shore
some hushes of the wind that i hear
some foams of the water
there is this drift this lull
this sleep that does not want to wake up
above us are the gray clouds
soon, soon, we shall hear the dragging footsteps of the rain.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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