(inspired by the Temple of Zeus at Dodona, Greece)
sprinkles of sun
freckle your cheeks through the leaves above
our heads
as the afternoon breeze
gently lifts
the hair from the back of our necks
we sit with our backs against
the shin-high wall
lulled into a sense of overwhelming peace
staring out
at the vast fields
the soaring mountain ranges
that surround this valley
where oracles of Zeus used to foretell the future
those priests are all dead now
the temples and theatre in ruins
the Olympian rituals forgotten
but the wind in the oak trees remains
still whispering our fortunes
from the king of the gods
if we listen closely
Elizabeth Bluth is a writer of fiction, poetry, and plays. Her work has appeared or is upcoming in LIT Magazine, Emerge Literary Journal, American Writer’s Review, Kissing Dynamite Poetry, and others. She has a BA in Theatre and Creative Writing and an MFA in Fiction from The New School in NYC.
Emerge Literary Journal 