I heard St Petersburg cry that day.
Watched raindrops fall in oceans from the sky,
Bursting seems of rivers that ran like ribbons
Between cobalt bulwarks, under dusty bridges.
We stood, arms entwined and heads bowed,
Like angles bound to Lucifer.
And while you pressed yourself against me,
Whispering “we’ll never be alone,”
I watched the Neva flow over cobbles,
And heard the cries of aphids in flower beds,
But you swore you just heard fish rejoicing.
•••
You clipped the padlock shut,
And let the Moskva streams
Swallow the key for you.
Behind St Basil’s doors
We thought we’d heard the chants
To ‘On The Morum Path’.
I still retrace the steps
We took in snowy drifts
Downtown, beside the trees.
I always pause at ours,
That padlock bound to steel
Branches, but now, but now,
The anger found between
Our words could break apart
This heart-shaped lock with ease.
•••
Stand below Lenin,
Look at revolution’s hands,
Pointing at what now?
jakeanthonyscott 