(x = space)

x

x

Metamorphoses

x

Exhale

Breathe through the eyes

On a blank page

Maybe the muse will whisper

Maybe not

Don’t we want

To take credit for our work?

I guess if we get help

Who’s to know about the muses?

They have nine names,

None of which we remember

Except Calliope,

The organ-like device

We used to hear at carnivals,

The quainter gatherings

In the USA

x

Do the gods

Visit on us here?

We have reruns of Xena

But does Zeus

Accost women here,

Later turning them to swans?

Does Apollo drive a golden chariot

Across the sky?

Do the Eumenides

Offer or receive libation

On behalf

Of mortals

Or against us,

Depending on our decisions

And our actions?

They would have met the other gods

Those of creation

And the forest

And the desert

And the sky

The spirits of

The Olmecs

And the Toltecs

Maya and Aztec

The Anasazi

And the Pueblo

x

I wonder how it went

When Jesus of the Europeans

Met the sun and harvest,

Weather gods

Of the Powhatan

Just outside of Roanoke

The colony

Where barriers met

Open trees

And waterways

I don’t mean to romanticize

The Powhatan had their problems

But to say the least

They were there first

They were here

First

I wonder how it goes

When gods meet gods

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by samson tarimo on Unsplash

x