Leonidas’ Last Look
George Stratigakis
Raised as he was for duty and his land, he knew that gods had their place but also had need of men.
He said his piece and accepted censure in return. Still, he would proceed circumventing the law and act as he was raised, cunningly, laconically. The Karneia would continue and he would fight for Sparti.
He sets out along the river. There he’d trained; there washed, there stole, drank, and grown. Poplars and planes lift, signing in the breeze; water rolls over pebbles into familiar pools. These he takes with him.
At the temple of Thornax Apollo he pauses and offers something small. He looks up at the hills ahead; past these, he will be the city.
At the top, he turns for a last look– Taygetos is half in snow; hills are dotted with olive trees; fields are bent with wheat; in the center, trees, greenery, Evrotas flowing pure.
He turns and starts north. The Persians are coming to see what Sparti is, who He is.
-Published in the Tipton Poetry Journal Fall 2014 Issue #26 |
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