—Your shadow came to the wall one last time,
as the lioness comes to the stone gate of heaven.
It was the female ego, fueled by desire.
And you asked: our love, will he always
be with us? Dawn came in,
weak around the edges, a whorl of parafin.
So you waited, in your creatureliness, crouched
like an attic rat, you waited till spring,
you loved its glorious imitations
of being alive, young sparrows, their orange scribbles.
Then you asked again: our love,
will he always be with us?
and the voice behind the voice replied:
Always. Like yours, his fate was to exist
even against your wall of hope.
So you got up. The islands winked
red, blue, white, in patriotic
disagreement. Commuters began their orderly
bright care. Then, E E E,
chiff chiff. Notes from the cypress,
from one who did not doubt: a jay
sat on top as if he caused the tree to be there—