Dawn

2 a.m. is not an arrival of
a surprise, but it is a compulsion,
images of yellow flowers
and green leaves on curtain
face you, a wall covered with
clothes, but there is nobody
wanting to wear any.
you wonder, how does it
feel to be a cloth still uncut,
a shirt just hanging there
ready to be worn, yet no
one is taking, and no one
seems to be ready to go.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!