Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2022  Vol.21  No. 1
an online journal of literature and the arts
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Nothing will perish. There is courage.
There are great deeds, and love,
which will last. And the wind,
flipping birch leaves like coins: tarnished bright,
tarnished bright. Yes, somewhere
is Verdi and somewhere is Troy.
Claire: Frankfurt before it was bombed is.
It is, and not one thing is taken away,
and Cordelia lives.
Yes, fear and lament. Yes, poison
is going into veins from the bag
the nurse has hung. And yet. And yet?
And yet. No pain is permanent.
Those we love will be brought
before us, uncorrupted, as they were.
Yes, I believe what I’m saying, no
this is not irony. Wisteria blooms
in that vase on the table. There is
a table. There are chairs, waiting.  

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