OSIP MANDELSTAM
he sewed Dante
into his breast pocket
perhaps
and carried a bucketful
of stars
and clouds made way for
him but the others did
not
in the last days of
a held-over doom-
leaving behind
an inconsolable future
and
as many scanless notebooks;
or were they also
taken into custody?
rustling a coded matchless snow:
oh worldwide language distressed-
the more-than-widowed questions-
on the way to
who knows what
I hope
snow-blindness
saved him
from complete collapse
and that he entered
Heaven like a bridal
page on which
only light could be written
surely there was
a point of endless rescue,
of a thousand angels whirling
when he heard:
the diamond waves crashing
on a finer shore,
and felt on his back
the black sun, infinitely
illuminated.
may children stitch together,
barely understanding orders:
new notebooks from
the periphery of that rose
mary angela douglas 19 september 2005/2 december 2005
