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Tag Archives: poem
On Seeing Caravaggio’s The Taking Of Christ
Too often I spin my days Into an airy shroud of schemes And supposes – Absent this world Until something shoulders Past me — Heft and shape define the darkness: Obsidian armor cuffs A black-gloved hand, Gold trim pleats over … Continue reading
Posted in Art, Poetry, Religion, Uncategorized Tagged Caravaggio, Holy Week, poem 2 Comments