Remembering Emma Goldman

In a garden by the French sea she wanders,
"Sasha, where are you?"

Once were flags and speeches
Revolutionary rhythm
Flush of rising passion.
Anarchy's flame,
"To the daring belong the future!"
Then exile, relentless dispossession.
Communist Russia was filled with starving
Lenin was a heartless uncle laughing.
Dreams drifted out to sea,
The flame flickered
Emma realized she was lost.
Departed then to France
A cottage by the sea, pen and paper.
Many letters between them,
Emma & Sasha, so far apart
40 years wandering in desolation
True comrades, but separated
Each a leitmotif within the other's soul.
One thousand letters,
Each a bid for sanity, the reach of two hands
Gripped across ten thousand miles.
When finally a telegram came,
Come quickly! The train was slow.
Emma held his hand that had held a gun,
But the bullet was not merciful.
By evening Sasha left her.

In a garden by the French sea she wanders,

"Sasha, where are you?"
"Sasha, where are you?"

By Michael Burns