GREEN LIME TREES
( Anna Akhmatova,in memoriam)


Missing the green lime trees
of your imagination
the spring is empty
except for the clouds
exploding around you.

Four hours silent
after an ill tempered nap,
the leaves shiver
you wake by noonday
alive in a frenzied
breath

Shine always
in the sun, Anna
renew the frozen Neva
take the grayest sky
and turn into shadowless light.


From Poetica 2
Snark PUBLISHING ,IL
2006 available from the author