Hangzhou, West Lake

do you expect me to
be happy here? the lake is as old as time
that is true

there is this premise that the old lake
must somehow
refresh me about some past pleasures
that i have forgotten

round one: the sound of the wooden boat
and the sleeping willows are peaceful along the
river edged with boulders of stones

there are stories
those sad ones about lovers who die without
tasting what love could have been

i am swallowed by an ocean of faces
and sadness simply comes again
uninvited.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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