Even a God

When all statues are relieved
of measure and divinity and fall or do whatever stone finally does,
that next morning, we shall have to live, even as orphans of white forms and brass
forms, without
reference
without
bracing,
bevel
and cut,
names without
verdigris, without pedestals and pigeons, however first
or last

True, I shall miss cold breasts and clean
hooves

When the hero on the horse is gone
I shall have to face the sky with eyes
that never close and a composure that challenges even a
god



Even a God [#57]
© 2010 Fammerée


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Richard Fammerée
fammeree.com
fammeree@att.net
director@universeofpoetry.org


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Photograph by Susan Aurinko

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