POETRY: Crivelli’s Pietà Angel, by Katherine Soniat

Angel From Pieta by Crivelli

In life it was just another spring
plunging with trees and noon-dark weather.
Things went on from there,
betrayal aside.
But this angel’s sopped eyes are beyond
consolation, stopped with a brokenness
the living feel about the dead.
And Crivelli must have known it,
with each gray, each plum daub to the sockets.

Somewhere this angel must have
a furious double, red eyes rolling
from so much wandering and confusion
in the desert before they settled
into a sadness like winter—
all there is.

Long ago I watched birds arc
back and forth over iron tracks
outside a city, and departing that life,
I could not see my hesitation as natural
the jerking toward change and death
the charm of all that is natural.

This angel needs to flee
his canvas for a damp cave
where the hurt will not be indelible.
As he flutters into the next
day, his eyes will clear
and open fully.

2 Comments on POETRY: Crivelli’s Pietà Angel, by Katherine Soniat

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: