What Makes Us Close

it is not the gold
or the silver
it is not related to
something metallic
it is not the grass
or the tree either
not the whiteness of
an eggshell
not the blueness of
the sky
not even the soothing
sound of the calm waves
of the morning sea
not the soft winds
not even the wings of the
afternoon seagull
it is not fishy not even
avian
it is not the air or
that big blue whale

frank let us admit
it is that itch.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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