AFTERLIFE
[For
Miklos Radnóti (1909-1944)]
I the root was once the flower
Under these dim tons my bower.
Comes the shearing of the thread.
A
saw is wailing overhead.
-- From a notebook meant to be found when his
remains were excavated from the pit
The
death you dreamed occurred
at
last. All deaths you feared
came
finally to pass.
The
world shrank to a shattered
tree,
embodying
dire
certainty.
Still,
calculated faith
that
words are life
pushed
patient tendrils
towards
the light,
where
now they flash
jeweled
facets
dark
obsidian fire.
First published in 2016 Anna D. Rosenberg Award Collection (Poetica, Sept. 2017)