Eurydice in the Park

by David Stankiewicz

Sitting outside, a lovely July evening, watching
Eurydice in the park.

I am alone among the others—
couples, groups of friends
eating, drinking their wine,
distracted or absorbed in
the ancient beautiful tragedy.

Gossamer wings in sunlight
streaming through the oaks.

Thoughts of you.

Nearby, the trauma helicopter
coming into Maine Med
obliterates for a time
the voices of the players
in the underworld.

The actress playing Eurydice looks like you.

And I imagine us together
walking in the park.
There is music
coming from somewhere,
sun going down.

The actress playing you
takes the hand of
the actor playing me.

When he pulls you close
and looks into your eyes—
as I have longed and longed to do—
he remembers he is going to die.