Primavera by Kayla Beth Moore

First there was the void—

known elsewhere as Chaos,

which Ovid called a shapeless heap,

which others know as darkness,

which still lurks in the creases of things.

This was the first of all is.

This shapeless abysm of is

has at certain times in history

found people to bother—

one was Botticelli.

One day the void stared at Botticelli

such that Botticelli felt the bluntness

of its stare like an invisible finger

pressed against his forehead.

Botticelli could not bear the pressure

of the void’s finger against his face,

so Botticelli said, “I will make of you a grove.”

The void shuddered

as Botticelli drew out of the blankness

oranges. Once there were ample oranges

Botticelli formed flowers, flowers he’d seen

growing from the ground

upon which he sometimes paced.

Soon there was a grove,

but still the void stared at Botticelli,

so Botticelli said, “I will people you, grove.”

Botticelli made a woman.

Botticelli took his time.

Botticelli made her round and beautiful

and saw by her face that she was in love,

so he added another woman in love,

and then another, and another.

The next woman called for colors,

and so he covered her in flowers.

Soon he saw he had a mythology on his hands,

with all these round, beautiful women

in a grove and in love.

To accommodate this mythology

he added male figures: a Cupid,

a Man with a Sword, a Threatening Wind.

When he finished the last wisp of hair

on the last round and beautiful woman

he stepped back. He had forgotten the void.

Then the void whispered,

“What will you call it?”

---

Originally from the mountains of East Tennessee, Kayla Beth Moore is a graduate of Yale Divinity School and the MFA program at the University of Florida. She was the founding curator of the library at Grace Farms in New Canaan, CT. She lives and teaches in Atlanta, GA.