Fragments of a Golden Glimpse
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
Perhaps light glints (that run the eyelid’s rim
Of midnight), blue in arc above the stare
(Black circle perfect as a priestly hymn)
Mean something other than years’ wear and tear
Since all this beauty lay long sealed away
In sacred rites and deep in tons of stone
In that sarcophagus song-sealed away
In music that to us is hidden tone
And rhythm, long, long lost to modern ears.
Protection of this kind, of stone and weight,
Preserved his eyelids for three thousand years,
So wear and tear were not their ragged fate.
Perhaps the light-flecked rims were meant to mean
His lashes on his eyes that death had seen.
~ Phillip Whidden