Stewardship

you claim ownership
based on hardship, this land, this house
this car
you touch the skin of your forehead
reminding those who see you
emaciated
of the sweat and
the hairs lost

there is that time
when the car breaks down, the house
foreclosed (as it is on mortgage)
when the land does not bear
any fruit
someone takes it
you begin to read the trend
you ask how is this happening

you can't take this
you cannot breathe and sleep

someone tells you, this is life, welcome
stewards all are we, we pass, we were just visitors here
all these never for all the times
belong to us
we only discover and then
they find their own ways back
to the real owner.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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