‘The Three Graces in the Trinket Shop’ by Joseph S. Salemi

Aglaia, Euphrosyne, Thalia

I find them there, no longer young,
Though neatly dressed and well preserved:
Three sisters in the trinket shop—
Polite and helpful, but reserved.

They guide me through their small boutique
Of jewelry, knickknacks, souvenirs;
Of statuettes and china plates;
Of teacups, lamps, and chandeliers;

Daguerreotypes and candlesticks;
Framed engravings, rosaries;
Liqueur glasses, beaded shawls;
Old postcards from the Tuileries.

I wonder at their careful speech—
The reticence and cryptic air
With which they describe every piece,
As chill as penitential prayer.

I ask to see the cameos
(Mostly profiles carved in shell)
And notice, in the crowded case,
Un délicat, exceptionnel:

Aglaia, Euphrosyne,
Thalia veiled in gauzy stuff,
On tiptoe as they spin like leaves
Swept upwards by a zephyr’s puff.

The Charites or Gratiae—
Three twirling maids whose dance delights.
They follow Aphrodite’s steps
And serve as her attendant sprites.

So says one sister when I ask—
The others smile but seem remote
As if they thought how well the jewel
Would grace some shell-pink female throat

But not their own. No longer theirs
The gifts of agile charm and glow.
Three sisters in a trinket shop
Whose movements are precise and slow

Can only keep youth’s girlish dance
Preserved within a locked display
Where memory might—now and then—
Recall a more ungoverned day.

Joseph S. Salemi has published five books of poetry, and his poems, translations and scholarly articles have appeared in over one hundred publications world-wide.  He is the editor of the literary magazine Trinacria and writes for Expansive Poetry On-line. He teaches in the Department of Humanities at New York University and in the Department of Classical Languages at Hunter College.