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Poem: Contemplating Helen

Not IK at all...a poem inspired from reading Helen of Troy by Bettany Hughes, although the setting comes from a scene in the Odyssey Contemplating Helen After the War Run your fingers through the dusky wool colored by the death of snails combed soft and fine that you wrap around your distaff and pull into a fine thread by the twirling of your golden spindle. Royal purple, the color of congealed blood – Do you think of him sometimes, the beautiful man who stole you away, and how the blood streamed down his throat from the arrow’s flight? Royal purple, and as you look upon the man who would not let you go, who turned the world upside down for the green hills of your birth, where he sits, content, king of the country he received as dowry, does the purple make you remember the spilled blood, the smell of fire and the sound of tears wailed into the afterworld? I watch your kohl-rimmed eyes, and see your shining hair, and your smile revealing nothing as you drop your spindle, pull down the thread and wonder what tale your own lips would give if you, and not the poets, had recorded your adventure.

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