← v6n2, Fall 2007
Poetry · Volume 6, Number 2

John's Christ

The auctioneer commits his little gaffe

when his helpers lift the latch-hook tapestry

of Leonardo’s Christian masterpiece:

The Large Supper. The waiting bidders laugh.

And though the latest spiritual fad has raptured

a populace of novel novel-lovers,

DaVinci’s purpose is better left to others.

But here at our local auction I am captured,

wanting to lean, like John, away from the master,

get some perspective on His hands, the gist

of one opening, one closing, not a fist,

His arms apart, beholding, Jesus’ gesture—

over his empty plate and the rag-tag cast—

preparing for the word, large, or last.