Graham Burchell
Elegy for the Victims of Delft
Diana and Her Companions – Johannes Vermeer 1655-56
I pick thistle from my toes
poor people of Delft
Jesus
so many of the flowers have wilted
Fabritius there is melancholy here
an arc of down turned heads
prayerful contemplation
fingers and toes
we feel something of your pain
more than two minutes silence
has cursed our lips
no breeze or sound
except a sponge squeezed
water drizzling
between Diana’s toes
warm tactless wetness
of dog tongue may break
the tantalizing space
wet unkissed fingers
spark a shock wave
through ribbons of conjoined limbs
a snap
to shake off our earth toned robes
half moon and pelt belt
that pulls in the goddess’s
Rembrandtesque pose
a snap an explosion
a God-timed shock wave
gunpowder tore the bricks
and limbs of poor Delft
© Graham Burchell
|