Michael H. Levin
In Sunlight, In a Beautiful Garden
(The Cloisters, Upper Manhattan, May)
This capital I’m gazing at
resolves into a cat-faced Devil—
he’s just swallowed a soul.
His thin smile spans a limestone block
where frog-eyed minions prod roped sinners
toward roaring flames of Hell.
One’s upside down—kicked shanks trail
round the corner, ready to be hurled.
Meanwhile a medieval square of
daffodils and gentians bobs
softly in a breeze that brushes
their living carpet, sighing
through potted orange trees
and sun-splashed colonnades.
Ease, buttressed by sandstone
certainty: a riot of petaled
flares and stars where terrors
of Below are checked by chiseled
images—its snarling beasts
faith-tamed. Watching streaked sparrows
twitter down to sip at fountains
salvaged from ruined convents at Bonnefont
or Cux, I finish off my baguette crust
and contemplate grave courtesies
that nodding lavender and rose
still offer up in stained-glass hues,
defying these less hallowed times
upon their sward of grass.
Michael H. Levin is the author of the poetry collections Man Overboard (Finishing Line Press, 2018) and Watered Colors (Poetica Publishing, 2014). His work has appeared in Gargoyle Magazine, Adirondack Review, and Crosswinds, among other journals and anthologies. Levin works as an environmental lawyer and solar energy developer, and lives in Washington DC. See michaellevinpoetry.com.
SUBMIT to What Rough Beast via our SUBMITTABLE site.