Poetic Divination
“At the Summer Estate, 1899” by Christopher Wiseman
The servants meet them. They were sent ahead
To open up the house, stock up, prepare
For the family. They know the Count will check
The cellar, then go to look at the boathouse,
While tight-lipped, severe, the Countess will inspect
The kitchen and the entertaining rooms.
It has always been so. He will note the termites,
Rotting wood, and she see the fading curtains.
The children will explore the paths to the edge
Of the forest, go to the lake, and run silly
Through the orchard pretending to be lost.
All around, great houses breathe again.
Shutters are opened, cobwebs and dead insects
Brushed away, pine-sweet air rinses the rooms
With their paintings and brocade. The land revives.
But summer comes more slowly every year,
It seems, and these pleasures they have waited for
In the city, in the Russia of too many.
Already the Count is in his white suit, checking
His guns. Cushions are brought out for his chaise,
The wicker chairs on the terrace, the rowing boats.
Invitations stand on the mantelpiece.
They settle in. They’re comfortable here.
The new century is talk round the dinner
Tables. There’s gossip. The groom leads out horses
For the morning canter. The ladies look for shade.
So it has always been. Shots from hunting
Parties in the woods. Lotions for insects.
Outside all day, the children are turning wild–
Brown-skinned, mature, but still polite at meals.
Cigars and cognac in the summerhouse.
Gruff talk. The ladies move to a sitting-room
For wine, in their embroidered floor-length dresses.
Three months is all they have. In this country
Such days are far too few. Somehow the painting
And the patching up are left again. The termites.
The charcoal-burners haven’t called this year.
The children say they want to stay for ever
And cry to think of going back. The flies
Grow heavy and slow. They light a fire after dinner
To keep away the chill. So it was, you think,
And wonder if they ever had time to look,
These people, at the shivers on the lake, or wonder
If the howling they heard at night was coming closer.