Annunciation
by Mari Pack
My religious friend says the New Testament isn’t big on timelines,
a Biblical hour can pass in an instant
or a season. Take the Annunciation. Who was there? When did it happen?
Probably spring, sabras and dates — colors
luminous and sinful — ripe in the garden. In an Art History class,
a professor showed us slides — click, click.
Mary, her virginal paleness blossoming beside the loom,
clasping a book, always impossibly blonde. Experts — historians? clerics? —
say the Spirit entered her like light through an open window,
her purity untouched. In my first Brooklyn apartment, I hung translucent blinds
on my backyard-facing panes, inviting neighbors
to strain their curious eyes past a thin veil, throwing clothes,
layer after layer of winter fabric into the hamper, sprawled naked
on a chair, thumbing through my phone. God,
palms wet, his warm circle of breath expanding, receding.
Published May 7th, 2023
Mari Pack is a writer in West Philly. She graduated with an MFA in Creative Writing from Hunter College in 2020. Her poems have been published in Poetry International, Broad Street, and Solar, and her poetry chapbook, “Description of a New World'' (Dancing Girl Press) came out in 2019. She was a finalist for the 2020 C.P. Cavafy Poetry Prize.
Originally from Montreal, Fiona Ackerman is a painter living and working in Vancouver, Canada. With over 25 solo exhibitions, she exhibits her work with representing galleries in Canada and Europe (Germany) and Asia (Taiwan). In addition to her studio practice, Fiona has painted several large scare public murals as well as video and music production. Her upcoming solo exhibition Automatic Yes opens May 27, 2023 at Herringer Kiss Gallery. A survey of her painting archive can be found at fionaackerman.com, and on instagram @ackermanfiona. The featured paintings Wild Orange Lily and Fleur-de-Luce are available through oenogallery.com.