SEFERIS' LAST WAVE

It snows on a ship
even when plans
are altered
in slow progress
along with Erebos
thinking of a cafe
in Cairo during the war
you watch an exile
putting on her lipstick
she is no longer
a stranger at a ball
as Furies of the last wave
make unrest
of business passengers
by the docks oars
uneasy in first light
of an ominous storm
you stare at art prints
of El Greco and Picasso
wanting to be at a port
with lemon trees
doves call out to you
a jazz tune returns
from memory
a girl collects seashells
from island coasts
there will be a melody
that remains
in art deco concert halls
playing Stravinsky
and Ravel
in a geometry of time
and undiscovered ashes.