Reading Akhmatova - Creighton Blinn

I glimpse you within verses,
Understanding what drew you to
Melancholy, lovelorn sentiments
Reflecting the shifting seasons of Peter’s City.
I imagine you bundled in a dorm room,
Clothed in collegiate black,
Hair chopped close,
Reading her poetry
While outside snow blusters those same streets
She once traveled.
 
You rarely spoke of her,
Yet, you brought to our home commemorative editions,
Decorated our bookshelves with her portrait,
Souvenirs of a younger self
I never knew
But for such scattered remnants
Echoing through the years
To this day, on this train,
I read these verses
And remember you.