Primavera
1655
Recalibrated perfectly,
the cathedral’s camera obscura
let the Sun in miniature
descend from the roof, to glide
steadily down the meridian
set in the floor: on the burning disk
for all to witness
sunspots drifted, left to right.
And the giant calendar
progressed, true to form,
towards Easter: the first Sunday
after spring equinox, past the paschal moon,
all through the Apennines
wild finches build their nests,
twigs and feathers
beading up with mist:
how rapidly
the small hearts beat.
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