The Vanishing Of Notebooks

[to Osip and Nadezhda Mandelstam]

the vanishing of notebooks did he muse

upon the Muse; the muse is banished she

sang, dark cherry tinged songs, Nadezhda, let us write our names on

snow perhaps he whispered 

whispered then he was gone.

as the crow flies say all the proverbs

so the saints die he said or the poets

so near the Hagia Sophia
and the crows reign sadly 

but we, did we write our names on snow

I carried you she cried how could they really

quench the lamp we could not see 

was burning down and

I awoke from dreams of even more trouble

and to 

the vanishing of notebooks

but Time could not eat your face in my dreams where

it was May

it was beautiful May

all the trees were snowing our names

mary angela douglas 15 february 2015