Adonais

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.