Fridays Are Meant for Poetry

Asking Anna
"And when one sees the truth,
what is one to do?" -- from Anna Karenina

In my museum of friends
sacrifice winters our lives.
In this deterioration
we decline to specify,
I ask Anna:
what's it like when lights
are going down, and like miners
with flashlights we're lying
thin on the ground?

What does she make of it?
Do icons remain icons,
forever concealing secrets
in the float of their skirts?
Do doorways open upon arrival
to those with a connoisseur's
eye for jewels and paintings?
Is the magic word as cold as vodka
slamming the back of the throat?

Finally, she smiles: around her ears
I can see traces of flame.
None of her answers longer
than a sentence, Anna understands
the potent mix of mandate
and submission, of choosing
to love or die. She advises,
"Let a dozen roses go with you."
And so they will, I reply.

Andrea Bates