The Temple of Hera – a poem by Royal Rhodes

The Temple of Hera
    ~ at Agrigento

The temple does not stand,
but seems to float,
pressing lightly down.

And we, like those gone,
are thinking of the sheer
mathematics of it all --
the almost invisible curves
to fool the quick eye
at a distance or near.

Illusion is in service
to a pure, godly reason --
sacredness in paraphrase --
lets us see what is real.

And here we merge with
the polyglot tourists
stumbling over rock
polished by myriad feet
to gaze on her absence.
But I can feel sharply
the peacock talons pierce
my irregularly beating
heart. 

Royal Rhodes is a poet and retired educator who was trained in the Classics. His poems have appeared in numerous journals in the U.S., Canada, and the U.K.  He lives in a small village in rural Ohio, surrounded by Amish farms and sheep pastures.