five o'clock, the usual time <br />but i already woke up at 3: 45 <br />too early really <br />but i could not go back to <br />sleep <br /> <br />the words arrive <br />riding on the boat <br />such wind <br />hovering <br />disembarking in my <br />brain <br /> <br />i am surrounded by <br />glass walls <br />and light brown <br />drapes <br />books scattering <br />like garbage <br />on the floors and <br />tables <br /> <br />i smell the odor of <br />dust and <br />water inside a vase <br />unchanged <br />the red rose <br />had long wilted <br /> <br />no one comes around <br />to fix things <br />and keep all of these <br />in their proper places <br /> <br />the windows are still <br />closed and it <br />is still dark outside <br />though the crows <br />have already <br />sounded their <br />sad calls <br /> <br />the cocks keep sounding <br />it is already morning <br />and the windows <br />must not be opened <br /> <br />i write some lines <br />as usual and then <br />i'll wear my socks <br />and put on my <br />rubber shoes <br />and then i will take <br />my walk to the <br />woods <br /> <br />it will be cold <br />and i can see my breath <br />like smoke from a pipe <br />but i need this <br />my body craves <br />my feet want to move <br /> <br />the walls are too much <br />and the curtains feel <br />like they have to be washed <br /> <br />i open the door <br />and then i meet a new <br />world again <br />i know at first it will <br />still be cold <br />that is usual <br /> <br />i know after this <br />the sun comes again <br />as usual <br />and things will warm themselves <br />again <br /> <br />on promises <br />like what hope is all about.<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/inside-my-study-room/
