Vagabond

i was too small then
chinky-eyed
my hands still like
buds of roses

i did not remember
thorns only leaves
and roots

the sky was as clear
as cellophane
and the the ceiling
hangs high
on the roof

and i did not remember
that the lizards
kissed the ground
on that sad afternoon

i remember you
as the tower
your hands big bells
your feet like
pillars and your
mouth like a boat
blowing its horn
for the final leaving

what i remember most
was what you left us
before you faded in the
haze far away
on the path towards
a dissolving
horizon

you left only us.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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