afternoon at a town unconcerned with a grimace
from the sky. He glowers. He glares.
He strives to blanch the tame blue blush
of pristine July. His frown intensifies.
A single wet drop of Olympian spittle
descends through contortions
of cumuli.
His grumble exacts no tribute
save an idle upward glance and the half-hearted curtsy
of my umbrella. Every other passerby ignores the once-lord
of weather’s unheralded return. No one asks
him for an alibi.
The braised rage of the sun
pierces a cloud in two places—
his unblinking eyes. Blind
to being so scrutinized, vacationers
occupy beaches and benches, luxuriating
in the leisure of their waning weekends while
high above the trimmed green park,
intermittent Frisbees fly.
Only I spot Zeus
observing the frolics of fearless
apostates until the sharp breeze foretold
on TV by pinstriped oracles with Hollywood smiles
shears off his beard with such precipitous
vigor and smothers
his final, silent,
harmless goodbye.
Twitter @AmandaBergloff
Instagram: amandabergloff
7 comments:
This is wonderful--I love all the old stories that paint the skies with gods and goddesses, and this poem evokes both their power and our loss.
Excellent word building. “ A single wet drop of Olympian spittle
descends through contortions
of cumuli.” Very nice!
Oh, the assonance is BEAUTIFUL, especially in the beginning of that third stanza. As expected from a man with his talent!
Thank you, Kelly and Katie!
Fantastic job, Eric! I loved how you represented Zeus here in all his wrath being completely cast aside. Especially love this line:
"The braised rage of the sun
pierces a cloud in two places—
his unblinking eyes."
The line "and the half-hearted curtsy of my umbrella" is a well aimed dart of imagery and conveys perfectly just how little tribute Zeus inspires. I also love the lines mentioned in Katie's and Sarah's comments. Your piece is wonderfully written.
Thank you, Deborah, Sarah, and Anonymous for the kind comments!
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