On The Bridge of Towers, Spoleto, Italy, for Clodagh Smith Turner’s all about the sun: the “Ponte di Torri” depicts not the disc but its lenticular smear, yolk-yellow, burgeoning over the Roman aqueduct whose four arches almost fade away, so light they are. He borrowed the towers’ blue-gray from the river’s dawn shallows, or the Romans’ fog-coloured metal mirrors, or the waning souls whose passing Renaissance death scenes caught. Maybe he mimicked the spiritus the ancients thought carried eidos, little pictures the eye imprinted, to travel the vena cava to the soul, which lived, they thought, in the heart’s knowing chambers––how else to imagine how seeing got in. Yet when finally I stood on that ridge, the stone aqueduct had not yet metamorphosed into vapour, spirit: it still bore the eons’ weight, and light’s, and all that thirst for seeing. Mary Moore Mary Moore has five books, three in the past three years, and has work forthcoming in Poetry and Orison's 2019 anthology. She is retired from all but writing poetry. She was a professor at Marshall U in Huntington WV, where she lives with a philosopher and a cat...or perhaps those are the same beings....
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December 2024
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