That Thing That Happened And It Was So Beautiful

he remembers it
but he keeps it to himself

most of the time when he rides a bus
seeing the trees flashing by the window

in the countryside
there is something crude and even rude

but it is always beautiful
there is some kind of repulsion

nothing about magnetism
some stones perhaps that grate upon themselves

against the water
or a dying moon or a swan leaving the pond

or grasses growing tall beside an
abandoned house and you are watching it with

a self-created distance
it is something that perhaps will not happen again

but definitely
it was beautiful and you always want it to remember again

though you want to bury it
forever

it is passing like a cold wind
upon your cheek that has forgotten the taste of tears....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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