Who or what in this picture could speak?
The statues of headless angels. The heads of long-dead kings.
What would they say?
"we have been stuck in marble halls for too long. Occasionally we are wrapped in plaster, duplicated, copies of ourselves shipped off to other locations, but never outside as we once were, guarding the temple doors. Even missing our wings, there is a reason we are positioned for flight."
Why is this image meaningful to me?
Occasionally I have felt stagnant, trapped, headless. We are both made of something so much heavier than air. We are both looking to use our wings that have been lost to the dirt.
When I look at it, what am I remembering?
Standing in the British Museum marveling at the amount of stolen art and architecture within: The Roman statues staring down the corridor at the head of Rameses. The head of Rameses staring blank at the Greek trireme. The trireme's ram aimed at the remnant walls of a Persian temple.
How does this image make me feel?
I am nostalgic for the feeling of being steeped in stolen history.
NaPoWriMo 6: find a photo.
1 comment:
I think the interview approach was rather clever after all. Nice poem.
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