Elegy, and: Orphans

116 IRA SADOFF ELEGY I tried to stay in the open moment, the instant perfectly empty: there’s a casket there, resting, pure silk and mahogany. The lining may have been lead and in the rowboat I remember my regret, having left the island with all my imperfections paying attention to the gesture but not the person no longer a person. In good time there were ledges and seals, the cormorants came back, and the rusty shipwreck was a site of devotion for those of us who’d like to preserve a moment or drag it with us, the living. 117 IRA SADOFF ORPHANS I cannot fawn Dear Lord—oh I see You tinker With temperatures, Bringing loves For some to bury. My friends The diasporas Shake a few fists At your favored clouds About to storm. I won’t deny Parishioners’ joys— With faces both Coming and going. I too want a bliss like theirs: blankened or beautied. ...