Chrysanthemum petals long and slender,
Of russet and burnt orange,
Watch their fellows detach and fall to the table,
To curl and twist as they dry.
The petals as they twirl downward think:
“Even the snow dances in the air,
As if reluctant to fall to earth.”

The Talmud says angels in their myriads are born each day,
Sing their hymn of praise to the Lord,
Then perish.
What do they think as they sing?
Do they prolong the last phrase,
Embellishing it in every way,
As their eyes drink in the mystery of our world?
Do they think, “Just a little longer, before oblivion”?

As Nerval, weary and cold, attaches a rope to an iron grate,
I arrive with a warm cloak and lantern,
I cut him down, his feet just barely off the pavement,
Wrap him up and lead him
To my upholstered carriage
And place a rug over his knees.
Now he sits in a wing chair,
His feet on the fender and a bowl of broth in his lap.
Whenever he is strangled by a severed hand,
Whenever life seems bleak and futile,
I put my arms about his shoulders
And I caress the side of his face,
I have him take sedatives in his tisane,
And as he drifts off I tell him
How a princess with dewdrops on her gossamer raiment
Awakens to his kiss.

As Walter Benjamin at the Spanish frontier counts his vials of morphine,
I take him to a café,
Hold his hand in mine,
“Here is your diplomatic passport —
Europe will still be here waiting
For your breath.”
From the airplane window he sees Manhattan.
“Down below, somewhere along that impossibly long, straight street,
Live Adorno and the Institute.”
And his eyes are already curious about
How radio binds a continent.

Cloaks and lanterns are out of fashion,
And men of passionate curiosity mourn in outposts,
But two estranged brothers embrace
And weep at their mother’s interment,
And their aura of russet and burnt orange
Sweeps the falling snow upward
In great draughts,
So that it may stay aloft yet longer,
Before falling to earth,
Touching the brown grass,
Crystals alighting,
Lacework dissolving
Like young men’s dreams
And old men’s passions.

December 7th, 2006