The Party’s Over
Athens
four o’clock in the morning…
Early white
bright sunlight
creeping over the
Parthenon: the city
asleep, the ancients
awake, as always,
mentally sinewed,
nodding knowingly
at their modern counterparts
whose muscle only
has softened--
hard cunning, irresistible
charm adamantine--
taxiing home
from Plaka
Ah, Greece!
As though looking for the Nativity beneath the neon lights of Christmas hawkers, we searched Greece and found sicca flourishing beneath the bare-boned ruins of our own beginnings. If Odysseus’ shores are now thick with bikinied beautiful people, the sun that bakes their flesh is the same as the one poor Elpenor saw before his fated, foolish fall. And if the yachts, flying the brilliant flags of too much diversity, leave no room now for Odysseus’ single-purposed craft, well, that cave—the one we scanned at Aegina, the cool waters echoing its secret chambers—that cave was always there. We said the shriek of Western rock was harsh, yet knew it did not drown the softer strains of weeping native instruments—of Hecuba bemoaning sons and grandson torn at Troy. And it was enough—oh, yes, enough!—to find but one perfect, surf-smoothed shard,, frail black etching speaking still of dark-haired youths and maidens tending musky casks for Dionysus’ sake.
-- by Velma Jean Reeb
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Velma Jean Reeb completed her undergraduate studies at the Pennsylvania State University and City College of New York.
Copyright ©2009, by Velma Jean Reeb. All Rights Reserved.


Very nice! Beautiful places — and beautiful forms. Beautiful sites — and beautiful sight. Dry and hot and silent — but glowing and revivifying and beautifully sought and found and discovered.
Beautiful poetic connection of the ancient and the contemporary.
Congratulations Velma!
Note to Readers of “Ah, Greece!” from its author
The word “sicca” (or “sika”) in line one is an approximate phonetic transliteration of the Greek noun for “figs.” It may be Island dialect or perhaps just a useful coinage, the better to facilitate tourist trade, not only with international tourists, but with those from the Greek mainland. On the Island of Rhodes, I was awakened early each morning by the musicality, just beyond my pension window, of a local vendor’s chant: “sika…staphylia…sika…staphylia…“
(“figs…grapes”) Can there be a better way to begin a day of sun and sea? Ah…Greece!
And with the thalassa poluphlusboia (much-roaring sea?) in the foreground.
Observer, Velma.
Thinker, Velma.
Reflective, Velma.
Word-lover, Velma.
Transporter, Velma.
Feeling, Velma.
Uplifter, Velma!
With Gratitude to Velma,
for taking me there,
taking me back,
for connecting then and now!
PEACE, Catherine
Thanks, Catherine, for the comment. A bit of poetry from you as well. :>)