For Maria Brit-Neva

It is well to remember, to celebrate and remember,
              how as we entered the shadowy vault of
                    St Phillip’s.
bearing her roses among us,
           five tall solemn men
in the plain gray clothes of the street,
           burst into song,
and the reverence of candles…

It is well to remember those tall solemn men
           in the clothes they wore on the street,
their faces unweeping but solemn as a departure,
giving her praise as we bore her roses among them,
           and how chill it was till we entered,
and then it was warm, and the reverence of the candles…

It is well to remember, to celebrate and remember,
              the chant of her name, Alexandra,
its repetition and the solemnity of it,
              the name Alexandra,
as if an iron bell rang and continued ringing,
           the stately name Alexandra
and again, Alexandra…

It is well to remember the chill of the vault made warm
           by the entrance of roses
and the candles’ reverence and those tall solemn men
           in the plain gray clothes of the street,
           chanting her name, Alexandra,
the incantation of her name, Alexandra…

But it is also well for you to forget,
           little sister, Maria,
to give her peace and forget,
to place in her hands this wreath and a silent white cross of Russia
           while saying farewell
and whispering, Sleep, Alexandra…