the wind brought wealth to Troy

goddess, sing -- and let your voice resound
in these stone walls that sat for so long buried.
nine cities built and nine destroyed.
each one thought to be forever.
each one overgrown and lost to time.





from high atop the grassy mound,
emperors and mortal men surveyed
the fertile plains, the trees, the hunter birds.
the wind brought wealth to troy.
ships from all the ages brought treasures of
clay and bronze, brought conquerors and
redeemers too, and swept away their footprints.





what will remain of us five thousand years from now?
formless rock, bits of statue,
tilestones, broken columns.
the gods and godesses we revere
will look down from their high places.



our traveller walked. he walked along a path of narrow stones,
every stone six-sided. he walked beneath the windswept pines.
he walked beneath the rippling flags
that floated on the ceaseless wind
that once brought wealth to troy.
at the city's edge, clay pots where nothing grows.
inscriptions void of meaning.



he walked atop the oldest walls of ancient troy,
sunbleached now and silty. the proud east tower rose up tall, once,
and guardsmen kept their watch there. now only grasses grow
between the ageless stones.
his path traced through the merchant square,
where men and women traded slaves
and artisans their wares.
food and drink once tossed and sacrificed.
cups and bowls flowed over as masters sharpened knives.
the grapevines once were ripe here.


















the temple to athena cracked and fallen.
oh goddess of wisdom and war, why do you let
such proud cities sink and ruin take them? the men who moved
between the columandes
carved lifetimes into solid rock, drew women out of
stone and marble. a scribe's seal, the name now half-obscured.
the waters now receded. the citadel gone silent,
great dramas played in other places.
the mighty archways broken.



goddess, sing, and let the mighty cities of tomorrow
rise from underfoot. let the wind bring wealth
to all who hoist their sails. bring our traveller home.
let the wine flow and let your songs be sung,
forgotten songs now cast onto the wind.