RILKE'S LAST RIDE
Dec. 4 1875- 1926

Moving in the cafe
your eyes toward the glass
of an apologizing red wine
reading a daybreak letter
from Marina Tsvetaeva
on a white laced napkin
she wishing him
an animated greeting
of a happy birthday
amid the still shade of winter
in the windy noonday air
feeling they will never meet
though it is both their desire
as he glimpses a familiar face
and an inky Russian signature
from his muffled red scarf
a cold Vienna lamp
near an ardent first violinist
plays the second Hungarian
dance of Brahms
as cat-shadows tremble
along the dawn blue wall
of quick first light
as all the black birds
have gone away
toward a frozen Danube
as a poet's last ride
transforms his words
from a sheltered carriage
in a rapid horsemen's tears
as Marina Tsvetaeva
throws stones by the rivers
which do not come back
as the word songs of Rilke
are heard by memory
along the Volga or Neva.