Profuse Light Underground

we slept under the cover of the trees
those old ones with leaves spanning a hill
we were so tired from a great escape of the crowd
we slept like we were dead with all the fears
we did not remember dreams
we were not allowed to cook
we had to transfer to another place after we woke up
we trek the mountainside again
leaving the profusions of light from the morning sun
seeping the leaves of the old trees
filtering what the underground bush does not really need
we had the life of the vagabonds
inside the heart of the rebellious
there was always no permanent place to stay
for life is but a journey and every scene is temporary

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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