By Eric Meub
High pressure system moving east: the road
continues, but the breakers bury it
beneath their backs, shrugging off a load
of splinters and a broken chariot.
The coast is vacant, but the beaches churn
with prints—a cast of thousands who just went
this way—only mine obliged to turn
away as waves erase a testament.
I left behind a fine split-level home
in Thebes for this? I’m stranded like the foam.
(Egyptians, heavy with armor, settle on
the ocean floor. One by one they sink,
great muscled limbs akimbo as they yawn
and gaze about in liquid dark as ink.)
Copyright © 2014 by Eric Meub
Eric Meub, architect, lives and practices in Pasadena. He is the adopted brother of the artist, Susan C. Price. They respect, in their different ways, the line.
A brilliant modern rendition of an ancient tale of loss and disappointment, by resident poet Eric Meub. Drawing by resident artist Susan C. Price. [Thank you, Eric and Susan.]
ReplyDeleteVery good Eric. I always enjoy reading your sonnets.
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