BEGINNING WITH A LINE FROM DICKENS (1982)

I saw no shadow of another parting from her
as we walked past a snake charmer on the curb.
Jill wanted then to walk along Madison Avenue
so she could look at things that were encased
in marble and bullet-proof glass. But I
wondered whether, back there, the charmer's eyes
radiated spiritual perfection or attainment
or just the malevolence serpents are burdened with,
her rattler wrapped around her arm like firehose.
Diagonal grey thatchings of snakeskin relaxed
or contracted around her still pale arm,
upheld as if to say, see me, see me, see me.

I did not see another shadow of parting
as Jill and I walked on Madison Avenue,
uncomfortable I'd guess now from the other's presence
after months of separation.
She was drawn to minerals, arranged in tongues
or slinky strings, on mannequins velvet breastbones.
She watched the carpets, silk and other fabrics
iridescent as fly wings or that priestess' eyes.

The rest of the short walk continued this way.
Carpets, or carved chests unfolded under glass,
their compartments stuffed with things too numerous
to catalogue. She said so many things to buy and
so little time really to choose between them.
And ars longa vita brevis to you dear,
and I can't be everything to everyone can I?
This is what we said, or what we wished we'd said.
She imagined one collar of ermine twined
about her throat in the future, and we split.

Then I saw no shadow from our parting
as for the last time I saw her, walking Mad. Ave.,
very erect, with no slouch or shamble:

because, in progressions, arithmetic, graceful,
with no shadow at five, life improves. The python
recoils in a paper bag, the woman in the plaza heads home.