Miriam Sagan


a little Mahler
it’s stopped raining
the Resurrection Symphony
makes you weep audibly
although you stifle it like a cough
I take your hand
as you shudder from longing for eternal life
the man playing the triangle
holds it tenderly
the lyrics speak of
a buried seed sprouting again
it’s been raining all week
but anything that sprouts now
will freeze soon enough
Think of Persephone—
often, always—
once I too was just a girl
walking the streets
of a provincial city
today I didn’t expect to be re-born
really, I didn’t hope to
the red oak in the front has yet to turn color
and shed its showy leaves
but it will soon enough
Demeter has gone to bed
and if Goldilocks
visits the the Three Bears
she’ll find each cot is filled
and all of desire and appetite
hibernating, asleep