Parian Marble

PARIAN MARBLE


I was walking in the fields
with a friend and asked
what the farmers do when they plow up
something extraordinary.
He said it depends on what its worth.
They take it to a middleman.
“Look at that,” I said, and picked up
a five-pound marble head of Eros.
The cheeks protected the smile
but otherwise it was beaten up.
A crack down the forehead
and under one eye
made it seem to be frowning.
Behind us were four bushes:
sage, thyme, oregano, mirtia.
The sun was going down.
I would like to hold something
up against the ruin.
To show how the heart and spirit
pass the test. The look on the face
was understanding and blissful.
The light changed
and I hid it inside a bush
for another two thousand years.

Linda Gregg

Posted over on Poet Island Press