Lanthanum 11.2

We sped along still, ensconced there in Natasha’s
cumuloship – eastward again, just where Siberia
shakes hands with Alaska.  Circuiting our gala
rondure – RUS back to US.  Her eyelashes
curved upward as she said, All this loveliness
is but a bauble in the hand of heavenly Majesty.
See the high firmamentbehold aurora borealis
rustle her garments of sevenfold light. & yes,
yes – so it was.  But I glanced below again,
glimpsed Vladivostok glimmer under clouds.
Called up my almond-eyed song-guide... his
mournful end.  Dark is the grave wherein
my friend is laid, I murmured to her (sweet
baobabushka).  Grieve not for Mandelstam,
she said.  The slave is free who’s overcome
fear, he crowedRecall that epigram : feat
so light, so resoluteThe soil beneath his lines’
diamond is steepa cedar mountSheepfold,
greenship... harboring seedlings of deep, full
faith.  I looked again... & saw Vancouver shine
below.  Sad memories of Malcolm Lowry rose.
A shattered river-shack... rock-candy almost-
paradise.  Torment.  O troubled, tortured host...
Her soft eye rested on me.  Remember Maximus,
his message, friendThe edge of truth cuts
sharp & clean, even to distinguish between bone
& marrowIntellect, sense; body & soul... one
Love binds twoReunion, prodigalVictory at last.


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