In Femagas

This is the simplest place
I'd been
Througout my life

The roads pure clay
The mountains pure trees
Nothing bald
No patch of brown

The flowers here bloom
All year round
And fogs hang on
Mountain sides like
Guavas

The children knows nothing
But the laughter of the rivers
The playfulness of worms and birds
The freedom of the monkeys

The staple food is brown rice
The best viand is City Sardine
The one with the Boat trademark
The best desert is a chunk
Of brown sugar

When one gets sick here
There is no doctor
They just consult all their gods
In their sacred caves

And when they die
No one mourns
The other side of the River
Where the boatman takes them
Is their perfect resting place
The Silence golden
The Quiet diamond-like

So Perfect & So Secluded

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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