Thursday, October 16, 2014


Come through the red gate
and rendezvous with
the shade of Schnitke
at Novodevichy
where Chekhov wanders
and Chaliapin's enthroned.

There, she held a candle
and hid behind a veil.
Her train rumbled away.
A schema-monk smiled sadly,
at Novodevichy,
where the black swans breed.

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