Traveling alone, she fell . . .

detail: michelangelo

Traveling alone, she fell in the Sistine Chapel –

by M.J. Iuppa

collapsed in a whirl, as if a gust of wind

struck her weak ankle and set her spinning–

her skirt inflated, but she did not rise

to bump her head beneath God’s fingertip,

nor did she push Adam aside.

Instead, she leaned into descent

like a scarf tossed in a dance,

and onto the marble floor

she puddled, still looking up . . .

A crowd gathered; then men

carrying a canvas litter

arrived with a knock

on floor:

              Avanti, she whispered,

and they lifted her up to their shoulders–

a marvelous blur moved beneath her–

and before her: God’s plan.

~ first published in the Bryant Literary Review

David Hominidae

sculpture: michelangelo     photoart: sharon auberle

David Hominidae

after Michelangelo

by Marjorie Stamm Rosenfeld

For stone that breaks the giant hold, for strength

I love you not, but love the languid length

Where right the slack and narrow arm now takes

A certain fortitude that weakness makes.

Then, after turbulence, I love your grace

At end, when grace is grace in rest.  Of rock

Your softness; yet no hardihood let mock

Your maleness, closed and petalled in its place.

I love for life, for so short days, for bud

Laid out on block, for chiselled pallor, blood--

More than the upward rising of the lines,

The deep dependence downward that defines

A homily to God by mortal strain,

The manly droop of marble

                                          And its vein.

            ~ first published in Southwest Review