Belvedere
(for B.)
The evening came sprinkled
with particles of poetry:
feelings gripped so tightly
they seemed they could fit
within a glimmer in an eye
or into the trace of a smile.
But when preserved in words
such moments can last forever.
And they often form the most
beautiful blue crystals.
20 September 1989
A belvedere or belvidere (from Italian for "fair view") is an architectural structure sited to take advantage of a fine or scenic view. While a belvedere may be built in the upper part of a building the actual structure can be of any form, whether a turret, a cupola, or an open gallery. Or it may be a separate pavilion in a garden, or the term may be used for a paved terrace with a good viewpoint, but no actual building. — Wikipedia
This is a wholly inadequate poem. I love it. I love it dearly. But it fails to capture what I was aiming to: the effect B. had on me. Words really are useless. I’ve hear talk of writers inhabiting ivory castles or even garrets although I mostly think of artists when I hear that word and Stravinsky. (If you’ve ever seen the room where he wrote
The Rite of Spring you’ll know what I mean.) Me, I climb up into a belvedere the better to see what’s going on around me. It’s not quite an out of body experience or anything like that but I am aware of a division between the me who’s experiencing whatever it is and the writer who’s watching all and making notes. I’ve no idea what was so special about this particular night. It was probably a night like any other. B. was a regular visitor to our home. We were probably just watching a film.
Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure came out in February and I’d been making all my friends watch it. Maybe she was part of a group. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.
Why blue crystals though? That is lost to me.
