You Are Dressed

you are dressed i see
like me
white as snow
and well ironed like
a kimono

i ask you
where are you going from here?
and you said
a question for an answer

how about you
where are you going from here?

and i ask too
a question to another question

do you know where you are going to?

and then i tell that man in white: i am staying.
and he went away without telling me where.

when i tell mother about it
she says

good my son, you did not go with him
by now, you would have been dead.

mother i know, as always, is superstitious.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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