After a Long Day and Funeral
After a Long Day and Funeral
I think today
of the leftovers
of the Last Supper.
The crusts–did someone have the wit to save
the bits, not
for future investment–to sit in some gilded coffer–
but like my mother saved the chocolate Easter egg
my grandmother was working on
at the time of her
last fall,
for love–
I think of all those little rolls of Leonardo,
oval as children’s drawings
of mice.
I think of my grandmother nibbling
(so nicely), the dishes done, my mother
making tea.
They would certainly
have finished the wine, circlets ringing the bottoms
of their glasses–Leonardo paints a brown wine–
it might preserve better
if I call it amber–
The tempera itself
hardly lasted, fading, flecking, a mold maybe
seeming to eat
the apostles–I think
of the mottled darkness below
the table–the robed legs, the possible
crumbs–
They broke off each night
one piece of chocolate shell–
that’s it, they said,
and then, when that was done,
they always, yes,
had a little bit more.
I think of what
we wish for.
*********************************
Draft poem for my own prompt on Real Toads about remains. I’m not sure what this one is–18? for this month.
The painting is Leonardo Da Vinci’s Last Supper, before it was restored. The pic below is one I took at New York’s Met Museum. I believe it is Greek (agh–I didn’t take notes of the origin.)
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Tags: After a funeral poem, April 2016 National Poetry Month, grandmother/mother poem, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com, Last Supper Poem, manicddaily
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ManicDDaily 
April 17, 2016 at 7:49 am
Just an exquisite poem, k. I can;t really find the words to do it justice–the baked funeral meats of classic context take on a sort of Undeath here, modernized in chocolate and amber even as they age and mold in place. Ritual shows its formal face in every line of this piece, as in every line of the painting, yet most eloquent is that truncated fragment at the end–both the sculpture and the ending couplet. You are writing superbly right now, k–such a pleasure to read.
April 17, 2016 at 9:51 am
I agree, words are not enough to express just how beautiful this poem is 🙂
Lots of love,
Sanaa
April 17, 2016 at 10:04 am
This is just stunning work! So many things to think about, so many images you suggest. Many remains.
April 17, 2016 at 10:29 am
Leonardo, Love…a Little bit more. yes
April 17, 2016 at 1:25 pm
Oh, goodness. I have to say this is a slice of brilliance, really. The bringing together of art, history, memory. WOW. Stunning, honestly.
April 17, 2016 at 1:52 pm
I just love that this speaker is wondering whether or not there were doggy bags after the Last Supper. Some myths are so big that we forget about the small bits… and things seem to brighten when the little things come to light.
April 17, 2016 at 1:58 pm
Love the sense of the familial mixed in here with the art and history….one can picture your mother and grandmother so perfectly in this scene you have painted so beautifully for us.
April 18, 2016 at 7:15 am
The tone in this is so measured…holds a somber nostalgic feeling. Beautifully penned, K. Thank you for the challenge.
April 18, 2016 at 4:58 pm
Wonderful, just picky note of typo:
Tempera, not tempura, unless there was a Japanese disciple at passover Seder