Notes From an Opera - Ana Silvera

Notes From an Opera - Ana Silvera
I was in a hotel when the city first fell
It was gilded and sullen and neoclassical
I took up with an officer and then his general
He bought me almond biscuits and a freshwater pearl
And took me to the opera and after to Pigalle
A dancer wearing tassels ate the rose off my lapel
These days I'm wearing Shalimar never my Chanel
Cos it reminds him of his mother
He wears me like he does his duty shoes
Immaculately polished and he keeps my soul
In the Paris saloons
And he occupies my moods
On the Rue des Abesses
We could see violets had
Colonised the boulevards in June
I walk him down to the station
Banners fly from the irons
And vapour trails
Come rising up
Like dove tails
Bridal veils
Sundial creeps its hours
Into July Among the ruins
Lanternas light
I still count his steps
On this esplanade Like rosaries
Arms surround me Arms surround me
I was in the hotel when the first bomb fell
It shook the chandeliers and that old crystal
Came tumbling down on the tiles like the steeples
Of the St Paul bell
I get my pleasures in the dim stairwells
In fairground hands I undo myself
Rise and fall like the painted poles
Of the carousel And now autumn unthreads
Her last dress of gold
Upon long lawns Shadows unfurl
I still count his steps
On this esplanade Where violets grow