The People of Pompeii

How vigorous their bodies still appear,
How beautiful. How the volcanic ash
Freezes, softens, then erases fear,
Like snow. They’re running for their lives: their last

Meals still digesting, still flexing muscle,
Still fending off bacteria, as if
All this activity was quite normal.
Pompeian life continues: fountains lift

Sparkling water up toward the sky,
Naughty boys chalk penises on walls,
Slaves hold cosmetic mirrors, dishes dry.
Perhaps a bowl left on a table calls

A hungry fruit fly down, his greedy eyes
Full of figs the air will fossilize.