One


One is a state of being,
A flinging thing
That we can play around with
But not the part that is a myth
Arranged as a row of archetypes,
Like a zebra with its stripes.

For one, it is a matter of seeing
Instead of the easy fleeing
While staying between the sheets
Vulnerably but prone to the beats
Of the Tom Tom drums at the height
From where descends the light.

To one it seemed pretty well worked out
The sky, the sea and the ground.
Beautiful! some would constantly shout.
As silent echoes muffled every sound,
Just so you knew what it was all about,
Green reptiles crawled round and round.

On one, maybe, on the shoulder,
Or on the back, sits a monkey.
It may weigh even more than a boulder,
Making you feel like a donkey.
That is why you have to find the dragon
Risk it! if you want the monkey gone.

Of one, what is there to say?
Play the tune baby and come what may.
There is nothing to get in your way
Only someone who might sit and stay
Just so to make your day!

Bevagna, 28 November 2018