Rodin​
Kendall Packman

Pedestals of weathered marble 
stained 
with rain
and the tell-tale sign of birds. 
They sit 
as the blatant sun ignites the
sky, one final time, 
leaving embers of speckled
stars in its wake. 

Ancient vertebrae straighten and
are relieved from the day’s weight; 
immobile automatons 
perfect in their rigid task. 
Soft chirping, 
crunching 
crescendos 
and echoes 
from the inner reaches 
of solid bodies.

Rocky humeri rotate in 
stiff scapulas 
specifically cut for them. 
The sounds of one-hundred record
players harmoniously scratching 
unscathed disks 
with no particular beat. 

One raises a hand. 
Greets their bronze
companions through the
barricade of 
conical conifers, 
clicking as it shifts. 
The moon’s light reflects off 
their cool skin 
as if it, too, 
is waiting to be greeted.

It will never receive their 
rocky regards. 
Carpus clacks against metacarpus,
Percussive snaps echo quietly 
Through the still night air, 
Wondering if they are confined for
eternity For purposes that are not their
own. 
​
To be photographed,

Sold, 

Observed, 

Passed by. 

They return to their positions, 
Readjusting their stiff capes to assure
They are more comfortable
tomorrow. 
​
This is the fate of Eternal Art.

Kendall Packman (Pomona '22) is a Media Studies major with a passion for storytelling as a vehicle for social change.