.
(Sultanganj Buddha, The Buddha Gallery - Birmingham Museum and Art
Gallery)
Buddha's right hand's raised, dispelling fear
the left is cupped - middle finger curled
for granting wishes. He's ecstatic.
You'd raised your hand like that - palm flat so I
could measure up - yours made mine seem small.
I look up - he's oxidised to chocolate
all his time face down, earthed over '
his fingertips worn back to copper shine.
I ask him what to do ' I want you
but Buddha's giving nothing.
When you cupped me with your hand I said
I like poems better.
Oh yes! I said as your curled finger moved.
I touch the end of Buddha's thumb where
wishes have burnished it. I wish ' recall
the spreading metal glow made me a liar.
