The Terracotta Army
We drove all day on dusty roads to Xian
in the Shaanxi province
to see the clay men.
The army is deployed in large archaeological pits.
Our guide, a Chinese beauty, marshals us from the front
like any good general.
Her voice is a dulcet lagoon
in this desiccated place.
We all notice that her silk cheongsam
clings to her embroidered,
peach of a bottom.
The arsenic-poisoned emperor died as mad as a hatter,
believing a metalloid would grant him endless life.
It`s difficult to tell if his megalomania arrived
before his craziness, or after
but they buried him deep where insanity is timeless.
As we file out, I look back.
The clay spear carriers
the foot soldiers, the dusty officers
even the horses,
all of them seem to be stifling smirks -
their eyes latched upon
a heavenly peach, no doubt.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2019
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