The Schola Tomb

Mamia

whose schola tomb
is at the Herculaneum Gate
I am sitting
resting where you rest

I am lost lost somewhere in Villa of Mysteries
a myrtle wreath adorns me
I carry a laurel sprig and sacramental cakes

I am a Maenad
Dionysus will save me
I am of the clan

I have danced
with my sisters in the Villa
and on the mountain

Now I am too tired to go further

Vesuvius has turned my veil
to a brides red

my dress to red
and the dry grey
hot rain

falls