To Fill the Hollows
by Gary Hardaway
They learned to fill the hollows with plaster
and sculpt in ghostly white last agonies
of citizens and, most famously, a small
writhing dog. A thousand casts were made
before they stopped out of regard
for fragile skeletons the plaster destroyed.
The ghosts haunted me at nine- stark white,
suffering, posed as they fell to Vesuvius-
after I read that National Geographic
in the library of Rheinhardt Elementary.
So many mouths were opened, as though
they screamed farewells to loved ones
or curses to the gods who had abandoned them,
as pyroclastic flows froze their time of death.
That last image would haunt anyone.*
You captured this terribly well. I visited Pompeii in 1970. Not only do the images continue to haunt me, I occasionally dream I am trying to flee--legs hardly moving--Pompeii as the ash rains down. *
This brought to mind those long-ago images from what I suspect was the same Nat Geo. I always wondered if they knew what hit them.*
Powerful image -
"So many mouths were opened, as though
they screamed farewells to loved ones
or curses to the gods who had abandoned them,
as pyroclastic flows froze their time of death."
Good poem, Gary.
*, Gary. Strong stuff expressed strongly. Fine poem.