| One snowy night I was smiled upon by Russian gods & found myself at dinner opposite The Moscow scholars a married couple—he only the world’s authority on Pasternak & she the final word on her beloved Alexandr Blok & as we talked the evening gathered Along the length of the white table & I could only keep drinking the conversation in so deeply I felt myself reaching back into the dark century & at last I got up to leave in my black cashmere Overcoat I’d found hanging on the back rack of a Venice thrift store & became just another shadow About to slide wordlessly into the night & yes it’s true it was snowing just in upstate New York Not Moscow or St. Petersburg nor in any ancient page yet to anyone who saw me walking I imagined myself as the most lyrical shadow alive Copyright © 2016 David St. John. Used with permission of the author. |
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