By Danny Fitzpatrick - New Orleans, Louisiana, USA - 3 December 2016
Old Abe brought Isaac up in Lazio,
pinned him trembling white amid straight cypress
and moonlight-leaved olives when ratio
voluntatis spoke the calm ram's distress.
Seems I've seen these Alban hills, too, brighter
under Tyrhhenian sun, a highlighter
grown gold as chaliced wine, evening seashine:
first green is last beneath umbrella pines.
The light ruled Caravaggio's designs,
left a creamy-armed angel to impress,
smooth our brows, rightly fear-furrowed unless
Michelangelo saw true to enshrine
dying Isaac in his Umbrian lines:
Semitic roots produce Italian vines.