Near a brief flash of lightning sits a bird,
a white one on a gray and sloping roof,
and rests against big blue clouds, like a surd,
almost absurd, incapable of proof;
and down below some city buildings gleam;
green trees and shrubs stand in between; a lone
bridge crosses over a slow-moving stream.
All that is enigmatic and unknown.
A lone pole leans against the man at left.
At right a nearly naked woman gives
a baby suck. By space the two are cleft.
There is a haunting quality that lives.
If ever on this painting your eyes rest,
you will not soon forget Giorgione’s Tempest.

 

Featured image of Giorgione’s Tempest courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

 


NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to mbryant@classicalpoets.org. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.