On Bernini’s Apollo and Daphne, by Libby Maxey

Apollo and Daphne, by Gian Lorenzo Bernini (Italy). 1622-1625.

 On Bernini’s Apollo and Daphne

Is there a hand more beautiful than his
Around her creamy hip? So soft, the moon,
Its fingers resting on the sea. Detuned
The lyre, somewhere, the bow unstrung. Is this
A god of oracles, whose seashell eyes
Are fixed upon her flesh and sure, dull pearls,
The foliation of her foaming curls
Escaping him? His confidence belies
The nacreous occlusion of his sight,
While wood spills up to meet his palm, too fast
For contest, racing like a broken wave
Along her bare, despairing thighs. So white
The silence of her open mouth, her last
An underwater cry, so lovely graved.

Libby Maxey

​Libby Maxey is a senior editor with the online journal Literary Mama. She reviews poetry for The Mom Egg Review and Solstice, and her own poems have appeared in The Fourth River, Crannóg, Kestrel, and elsewhere. Her nonliterary activities include singing classical repertoire and mothering two sons. www.libbymaxey.com