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Mayakovsky Morning


It's almost two, dear Vladimir,
Here in Berkeley I'm failing at sleep.
Your last lines crawl through my mind.

The sky tonight is covered by clouds.
No stars are shining;
Yet, I look out.

Oh, my dearest, Vladimir!
You have touched the ages, history...
I can't speak for all of creation.

I wish you could have spoken with me.

I would have told you
The power of words—
No matter insomnia.

I would have told you
The persistence of words—
No matter how bleak our future.

Think of the stars,
All rivers, the Oka....
Eloquence is staying alive.

© 2008 Peggy Landsman
Published in To-wit To-woo (FootHills Publishing); Poetry at the 33 Review; and
Backstreet


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