Steve Orlen
The Northern Lights. By a few minutes, Jane Mansfield 
 Stepping off a yacht with Frank Sinatra. In the woods 
 Outside Avignon, two deer nibbling wild raspberries 
 Next to the ruins of a Roman wall. I was making out. 
 I was taking a nap. I was momentarily entranced 
 By a different sector of the Universe. What would 
 Orpheus have seen if he hadn’t turned back to look? 
 The blackness turning gray before him, the great doors 
 Of Hades, and beyond the doors, sunlight glorifying 
 The laurel bushes, and sweet Eurydice, who would 
 Have grown gray, wandering the paths of song, 
 An echo of footsteps behind her now less famous love.
