Malachite of tower and dome, <br />clatter of sabots, creaks of wheels, <br />neighs of horses headed home <br />from a market where smoked eels <br /> <br />glimmer in the October sun. <br />As merchants hawk their sundry wares <br />an English poet, squire John Donne, <br />stands by a basket full of pears. <br /> <br />Clad in a purple gown, a tart <br />straight out of Caravaggio <br />offers smiles for the sake of art, <br />and rubenesquely curtsies low. <br /> <br />She is the virgin mother of Christ, <br />albeit in one timeless pose. <br />Pious, but easily enticed, <br />will he kneel to take off her clothes?<br /><br />Leo Yankevich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/baroque-nativity-scene/
