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  • What loves, takes away
  • Eleanor Wilner

—for Dick Macksey

If the nose of the pig in the market of Firenzehas lost its matte patina, and shines, brassy,even in the half light; if the mosaic sainton the tiles of the Basilica floor is half gone,worn by the gravity of solid soles, the passingof piety; if the arms of Venus have re-enteredthe rubble, taken by time, her perennial lover,mutilating even the memory of beauty;

                                                                              and if

the mother, hiding with her child fromthe death squads closing in,if she, trying to keep the childquiet, to keep them from being found out,holds her hand over his mouth, holds himagainst her, tighter and tighter, until he stopsbreathing;

                        if the restorer—trying to bring backto perfection the masterpiece scarred by itstransit through time, wipes awayby mistake, the mysterious smile...

                                                                    if whatloves, and love is, takes away what it aimsto preserve,

                          then here is the place to fallsilent, meaning well but in danger [End Page 1021] of marring what we would praise, unableto do more than wear down the marblesteps to the altar, smother the firewe would keep from the wind's extinction,                                                                      or if, afraidof our fear, we lift the lid from the embers, and sendabroad, into the parched night, a flight of sparks,incendiary, dying to catch somewhere,hungry for fuel—the past, its dry provisionis tinder for brilliance and heat... [End Page 1022]

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