Pygmalion
Ecstatic moment as the stone
Took on a softer, human tone.
Her fingers warm upon his face,
She arched upward to his embrace.
The marble fabric slipped away,
Her well-curved hips began to sway.
Her eyes, once blank, now dawn-bright blue
As his artistic dream came true.
Said she, when lips were poised to meet,
“I’m hungry, let’s go out to eat.”
John Byrne lives in Albany, Oregon, with his wife, Cheryl French, an artist, and their high-school-age actress daughter. He writes formal poetry, short stories, and plays. Some of his other recent work can be found in The Lyric, The Gold Man Review, and Fiction Vortex.