On Reading Akhmatova

On Reading Akhmatova by Rick Folker Kansas City, MO ...delighted in deliriums, In singing about tombs. I distributed misfortunes… … But I am not allowed to forget The taste of the tears of yesterday. - Anna Akhmatova “The Last One” Awake in my darkened room Another nightmare of doom Entombed in this nothingness Life has become a series of shades Passing by my window on a heavy August night - Friends long dead Whisper, “Hey man, you should have bowed Out gracefully … we did”. Survivor's guilt covers me like a shroud Their deaths leave me hollowed; Dessicated like late autumn leaves ... The stifling heat is burying me beneath My last gasps of relevance, remembrance, And sanity, I live; they sleep. I in this lonely room, they in the distance Of their deep Now the pathos of age and dead end paths Beckon me; those former friends Those shades I flee Against my earnest, ardent screams Escape my desperate silent plea for dignity, forgetfulness, and longevity I shall not dream again tonight I hope; I pray Of those I loved; Of those I lost to AIDS