3.x.22
1001
3.275
the mystery and miracle
ekphrastic for ‘lives of the hermits’
Fra Angelico
at the Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest
among such rocks and mourning
a donkey goad
the hands of prayer
someone reading the book is borne
everything burnt must grow
to light
one wheel, a cart
the lion draws
go pen and ink behind
ghosts any size
fade face to the wall
beards longer
where garden grows
all are lean with such devotion
some monsters turn stone
odd, from another world
mad many legged demons row themselves
this, after all, is the Nile
the church is a model
toil toward
all they could afford
river runs to islands
carries the ages away
as green as heaven is blue
the foreground is the background
life’s never quite to scale
but what do you expect?
it cannot be the real deal
some have been stuck on
all of us are smaller than something
but what is it and why?
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.