Annabel Lee Poem by Tamir Greenberg

It was many and many a year ago
in a kingdom by a mountain
I loved there an innocent dark boy
but his beautiful name and his gentle body
were never ever known to me.
Years ago he perished and died.
Two years passed since he went.
Like a bird's brief and muted chirp.
Like the dropp of a pine leaf
into a sweaty palm.
Under the ceiling the angels hovered
whose names were like his and like mine,
and a cold wind blew from my eyes and killed Annabel Lee.
Later, the soft light in the clouds drew back,
and time, too, turned its face to the wall.
I recall a black-and-white-photo
I wanted to steal from his desk
but never found the nerve.