Dante in Ravenna
Nick Tosches

From where he stood, he could see it:
the ocean's edge:
the slate-colored sea and the breaking wintry froth
that was the color of the moon.

She had dreamt it all--the glimpse
in the narrow street, the parting, and the star that
three times shone; but she had not dreamt this.
Always she had said the souls of the dead
were drawn away by tides; and so he had come here
to wait.

Day came in the east, and the slate-colored water
went golden with swallowed starlight from beneath;
and he stood there, meeting the sun of his fortieth year.
And in that breath that bore no power and drew no light,
in that dead lenten moment, that susurrus,
that copse of ended evening
at the edge of the woods of raging sadness,
the edge of the woods of raving madness,
it came and seized the source of breath itself, and all within,
deliverer, redeemer, inspirer,
demoness of eleven names and more;
divider of destinies and days;
beloved