Analemma

 

Analemma

 
The other morning
The Pieta
A small replica
On a shelf
Found by the sun
Bright and full
 
The sun
Straddling the culminating point
Of its northward journey
Peeks through the window
Just so
Twice each year
 
Just before
Shortly after
The summer solstice
For a couple of days
It warms
That lower shelf
 
Why the intrusion?
That draws my eyes
An intrusion
Into my time
My time for solitude, contemplation
An intrusion

© 2012 Thomas W. Cummins

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3 Responses to “Analemma”

  1. jmsabbagh Says:

    Thank you for your exquisite poem.l was in Rome and l visited the Vatican and saw the real Pieta.Michael Anglo was a brilliant Artist.Regards. Jalal

    • Tom Says:

      Jalal: We also had an opportunity to see the Pieta in person. In fact, my small replica was purchased just down the street from St. Peter’s. As an added treat, we saw Moses on our last evening in Rome, and David several days earlier in Florence. Those sculptures are simply beyond any expectations one might have.

  2. Tom Says:

    Reblogged this on In a dim light… and commented:

    It’s that time of year again. Always eye-catching, thought-provoking.

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