Florence

An angel once walked here, 

with power to waken stone -

So what does this people make 

of the superhuman frame,

The severe classical frown, 

not disdaining but ignoring

Those who walk at shin level 

to his unshakeableness?

Or of what other masters left, 

renaissance forms 

Assured eternally 

of their own elegance?

Like a youngster doomed 

to an older brother far too

Athletic or clever, 

we can only learn

to make the best of our pettiness, 

and mirror him in caricature, 

in a million mawkish plasters.