Orpheus

Moonflower:
a Mexican plant, known for its
white night-blooming flowers;
also called "angels' tears'.
As for the widower, so the poet.
You journey down among shades,
untangle from Death's dragnet
a formal radiance that fades
as you draw near. It takes all your
haunted eloquence to lure
her back towards this sapphire
and emerald world — a pure
shape who covets now only
refinement, the grace of loss.
How to coax so silent a soliloquy
into voice, the almost gross
project of loving, body to body?
You need more than courage to turn,
welcome her veiled gaze — as she
falters (so tenuous a bond), spurns
your aching incompleteness:
which you must now bring home …
Hunger for even a witness
and you will find that answering
absence behind your shoulders —
compassionate at moments,
pleading for nurture at others,
or craving terminal rest.
You circle the earth of her grave,
tracing her unlived life, lay sprigs
of heliotrope from sunless groves.
Blooms grow there — gleaming,
pock-marked moonflowers.
Under starlight, bloodstone
petals mingle with angel's tears
to weave a wreath, a sign.