I Give Way To Time Without Much Murmur

time comes to my narrow alley
it fits, i make things fit there
like a snake hissing on its very
tiny hole
its fangs sing of clarity
it bites without
responsibility the frog dies
and the rain mourns
for said loss,
time passes me by like we
were strangers
my beard turns white
my hair diminishing into a death
of its own
chasing the tomb in the forehead
one day i look into the mirror
seeing another person
i swear
it was so haggard in looks
deep sunken eyes
like an old Spanish church buried
by this volcanic eruption
somewhere in Camiguin Island.

I ask myself, what is my name?
I smiled, how can i ever give a wrong answer.

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