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.