Marc Mosko, 1993
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Two mounds of earth, a cross for each,
the almost father, widower now,
crumples from his feet.
Two fists of dirt, one from each,
pressed to his face, a beseeching moan.
Hot anger swells, grasping fingers skyward bound,
return empty to his breast.
Sanity's lost to passion's violence,
a life time to mourn: omnia vicit amor.
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On remedies for either kind of fortune, Petrarch.
French translation from Paris, c. 1470,
illuminated by Fransiscus.The picture shows Lady Fortune turning the crank of
fortune's Wheel. The Wheel is up so high that Fortune
herself must stand on a stool. Other suiters offer the
Lady gifts.