Chagall's Bride

I sail into midnight
in a gown of cobwebs,
in firefly earrings.
I skim barefoot past spirits,
float above zombie louts,
those Calibans below
who wonder and stumble.

I am alone trailing memory
in a dusty blue wake,
singing thin hymns to the night.
It swallows them whole.

Tears skate my cheeks like mercury.
They burn and fall in silver beads,
each a starry story, particles
of promise that dot the sky.
Follow them and you may find
the sabbath where I've blessed bread twice,
pulling air to me,
pulling HaShem to me.

My whispers curse the darkness
and shatter yarzheit candles.
Crows glide up from the earth
and speak from empty eyes.
Perhaps they see angels.
I do not.

I am occupied. I scatter
the barren ground with prayer
cast in radiant dust and so
the Perseids are active tonight.