{"id":2214,"date":"2013-05-24T15:10:43","date_gmt":"2013-05-24T19:10:43","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/stlydias.org\/blog\/?p=2214"},"modified":"2013-05-24T15:10:43","modified_gmt":"2013-05-24T19:10:43","slug":"ghost-supper","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/2013\/05\/ghost-supper\/","title":{"rendered":"Ghost Supper"},"content":{"rendered":"

by David Wojahn<\/p>\n

Under the trellised arbor, and our supper\u2019s over<\/div>\n
in the memory I\u2019ve found myself inside.<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

L not speaking, and beside us the river<\/div>\n
sliding softly by. Now the light will fade<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

to moonlit water. And in memory I work<\/div>\n
to make this lingering accurate and sweet.<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

White ouzo and her hand that lifts the grapes,<\/div>\n
first to her lips, then to mine. I may as well speak<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

to moonlight as to her. And the walls of Bruges<\/div>\n
light up again, a costume jewelry pearl string.<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

Her profile and her shawl hugged tight against the breeze<\/div>\n
in memory\u2019s flammable celluloid\u2014flaring<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

and gone, replaced by bread and grapes, a checkered<\/div>\n
tablecloth. The two chairs stare each other down,<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

empty now, upon which moonlight flickered<\/div>\n
all night. The bread and grapes drip mist as dawn<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

carves the morning with a chilly wind,<\/div>\n
slicing away both moon and fog. Now someone<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

without a name appears\u2014first the fevered hands,<\/div>\n
Dustdevil quick, that grope for the food in vain.<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

Then the pale light shows the open mouth<\/div>\n
and rippling throat, white face on black water,<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

sparrow-flock fast, its spiraling path.<\/div>\n
But the bread and grapes stay where they were,<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

their smell tormenting that famished ghost, helpless<\/div>\n
to even lick away the dew that gathers<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

on the grapes, blue fluted sides of the wineglasses.<\/div>\n
Dawnlight, everything dripping wet, and the chairs<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

stare at each other, alone. Sometimes on the riverbank<\/div>\n
you can sense an odor\u2014of grapes, or sex, or memory.<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

It swirls through the moonlit grass. And now wakes<\/div>\n
someone always mute, someone without a body<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

weaving also through the half-lit grass.<\/div>\n
The hoarse wail of someone who cannot speak,<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

who reaches out but cannot\u00a0touch<\/em>\u00a0the grass,<\/div>\n
and only the nostrils flare. Now the dawn will break,<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

late autumn cold. To crave so endlessly the warmth\u2014<\/div>\n
the blood-pulsing fingertip, the body to embrace,<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

the pungent smells commingling. To rise like breath<\/div>\n
and slither through the trees and tangle every branch<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

in this unappeasable longing, this endless lust<\/div>\n
for touch and smell which afflicts the dead.<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

The souls in the trees face the gathering light.<\/div>\n
Other times, in the ground, the rain torments them.<\/p>\n

–Read at St. Lydia’s on March 21, 2013<\/em><\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

by David Wojahn Under the trellised arbor, and our supper\u2019s over in the memory I\u2019ve found myself inside.   L not speaking, and beside us the river sliding softly by. Now the light will fade   to moonlit water. And in memory I work to make this lingering accurate and sweet.   White ouzo and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[9],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2214"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2214"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2214\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2216,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2214\/revisions\/2216"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2214"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2214"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2214"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}