'He woke tot darkness'


Rodin (1840-1917) Orpheus and Euridyce

Orpheus

That night he dreamed -- when at last he slept,
after staring long at a stone by his face,
willing it to weep as he did not, his eyes
too stunned and hot for tears -- he dreamed
he walked again inside the narrow place;
behind him slowly came Euridice;
he dreamed he walked and did not turn,
kept eyes and face most forward, towards the light
that marked the entrance to the world;
and when he reached it, did not turn
til Hermes tapped his shoulder.
Even then he stood a moment longer, waiting;
sure, the pact inviolate, he spun
and saw her, in the sunlight. But
the dream did not end there. He saw himself,
stone-faced, dissapointed. Shouldn't she (he
seemed, he dreamed, to think) be grateful, glad?
Her kisses, tears, her smiles, he thought, were false.
She touched his arm, frowned, asked,
"is something wrong?" He shook
her hand away. "It's nothing. Nothing, love."
Then turned and slowly walked into the shade
of nearby trees, lay down, and slept.

He woke (not in the dream, but truly woke)
to darkness; nighttime still, still painful eyes,
and loose as a snapped string lay staring.

Rachel Vassilievna Trousdale