weekend in the underworld

  by franz wright, from walking to martha's vineyard

 

once i held your face

in my hands, i saw through

space

poor spirit

drifting off now

like smoke in pouring rain

wait---

are you there?

everywhere. i'm 

everywhere

old story

  by franz wright, from walking to martha's vineyard

first the telephone went,

then

the electricity.

 

it was cold,

and they both went to sleep

as though dressed for a journey.

 

like addictions condoned

from above evening 

fell, lost

 

leaves waiting 

to come back as leaves---

the long snowy divorce. . . 

 

that narrow bed, a cross

between an altar

and an operating table. voice

 

saying, while i was alive

i loved you.

and i love you now.

on earth

 by franz wright, from walking to martha's vineyard

 

 resurrection of the little apple tree outside

my window, leaf-

light of late

in the april

called her eyes, forget

forget---

but how 

how does one go

about dying?

who on earth

is going to teach me---

the world 

is filled with people

who have never died