It would be different,
of course—
if my path were
lined with votive statues. Supplicatory
offerings buried at their feet:
leather purses filled with coins,
jewel-encrusted amulets,
spearheads. Scraps of papyrus
asking the gods for some
small kindness.
If I were all
marble and black limestone.
A sanctuary for the artifacts
the people hold most holy:
wooden effigies not carved
by human hands, saltwater wells,
olive trees, burial places of
mythical kings.
If you were
worthy of enshrinement
in a noble-gas-filled glass
chamber alongside
the rest
of the caryatids.
