"Christ Driving the Money-Changers from the Temple," painting by
Domenico Theotokópoulos, known as "El Greco," public domain image
Maid of the Dance
Bracing her basket with one twisting arm
On her plain cap, eyes cast serenely down,
She paces forward in her half-draped gown,
Classical nymph turned servant from the farm.
He swings on one leg; rearing in alarm,
The money changers fall away, grey-brown
Flesh against stone. And yet he doesn’t frown;
But for the whip, his pose suggests no harm,
Just music. Who can hear? Not Peter, lean
Knee bent in awe; none of the lurching throng;
Only this girl, indifferent to the scene
Beside her and round him, still trips along,
Keeping his time to an unearthly score,
Her light feet shining on his father’s floor.
Julia Griffin lives in southeast Georgia.
She has been published in several online
poetry journals.
July 2024 issue
This is a lovely poem.