Poetry by Lauren K. Alleyne from our Fall 2016 issue.
In the temple’s farthest corner
an olive tree stands,
silver-green leaves like a shawl,
its trunk braided
down into the ancient earth:
You are witnessed by it.
A boat hums by, and the fisherman
An ocean opens within you,
makes your body a shore
upon which memory crashes—
You feel the walls in you becoming
ruins, holy and broken.
In the sky, a solitary cloud.
You give your words to the wind.
Image: Art and Picture Collection, The New York Public Library. “Vue d’Acropole–Athenes.” New York Public Library Digital Collections.