High Relief; To Be Sure, Free-standing in Refinement

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

For years and centuries statues made of stone

Were set up in the temples of the Greek

Priests.  Centuries passed and grace did not atone

For arms and legs there.  They remained too bleak

In strictness.  Maybe the religion trapped

Them.  No one seemed to notice.  Then . . . at last

The temples (and new faith?) caused change that mapped

A perfect forward path.  The rigid past

Was turned from Doric to Ionic, then

Corinthian.  Along with this came thighs

That swelled like thighs.  The gods became best men.

True gracefulness appeared to human eyes.

  The statues were transformed, more gorgeous than

    The columns.  Stone was turned to Utter Man.

~ Phillip Whidden