Elegy for September 10
Before all of our totems fell, you drew
A talisman on my forehead – I prayed
For a late harvest and rose like a
Steel-eyed crow, scouring
As many grains as I could devour before the last
Burnt vestiges of summer sloughed from my skin;
Before the light touch of early wind could suggest
Our search for conclusions was at an end. That last New
York night, we sat in Astoria. Hope sparked. I took in
The darkening skyline, struggled against sleep, dared
Dream of a future again. Had I been a better alchemist
I would not have nursed this, would have slipped away
From the past to blend memories like a salve,
Muddling with the practiced ease of one who works to forget
Everything, even instinct. Flying out of Manhattan that morning,
I left behind something more beautiful than any scar
I’d ever unpeeled. It was as promising
A morning since our demise was first revealed.
poem by John Sarvay
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