Two Poems

Christopher Nield

 

To Apollo

My love is calm and stone is warm.

Each word is white as summer air.

The emptiness of touch is form.

 

No shadow moves our mindful stare.

The breath between us disappears.

Each word is white as summer air.

 

There is but having in these tears:

This knowing you. This knot of grace.

The breath between us disappears.

 

We meet in sun, where face to face

There is no more than tenderness:

This knowing you. This knot of grace.

 

Opacity is limitless.

The element of touch is sight.

There is no more than tenderness.

 

The solid core of stone is light.

My love is calm and stone is warm.

The element of touch is sight.

The emptiness of touch is form.

 

Telamon

Cold, in triumph,

Monumental

Paragon.

 

A bearded face,

Monarchic frown,

 

Torso cut

By lines of rigor,

 

Column wrought

From ritual

 

Pleasure,

With that shy

 

Capricious

Smallness

 

At the core,

An idea—

 

The beauty of all men

Standing

 

In a marble languor,

Feet as one

 

To scorn the fire,

Hands upraised

 

To hold

The sky’s entablature.

 

Body of Zeus,

Stare of Athena,

 

Icon

Of muscle and trial,

Telamon.