Looking Back

the form was presentable
i look at the eyes again and
tell you, ah, those eyes were
my father's eyes,
and my father was so handsome,
until, time used him, there were
lies, and it infested his body
until he got so weak and
then he died in all
despair possible,
i look back and find the reasons
for betrayal,
they were beautiful reasons
and then i understand
those sad eyes, those tantrums,
the dead dog
the fish surrounding its rotten flesh
feeding upon it
until it sinks as pieces of bones
the foul smell
finally buried in the water

the white ghost floats in the river
and always in fidelity
it sings

there was no regret for the
beautiful reason
there was only Eros,
the warmth in the flesh that entered
in the thighs,
and the pleasures that
no one can ever forget.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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