7: 03 In The Morning And Recounting Last Night Poem by RIC BASTASA

i am wrong going back to all
those old pictures

about youth, smiles, hugs, kisses
romance, fair weather, seagulls, ports,
mountain climbs, spring dips,
ice cream licks, grapes in my hands,
pillows on warm beds,
walk in the countryside
river baths, home cooking,
grandma's sweets,
papa's horses, old furniture
clan parties, December breaks

i am trying to shake old and dying hands
trying to talk to the dead ancestors
asking them where i have gone wrong
and what i am to do next

my head aches, my heart is anxious,
it is midnight and i cannot sleep

i am back to something to appease
myself
whatever that is and i do not care if
it is fake
if it is an illusion

what i need is something tranquil
something that old solitude can offer

how much is peace? how much is love?
you are right, i can't afford it.