it’s a quieter Athens as it cools
the sun’s memory erased
in a pause of gray light
silent but for the whispers of carved marble
their stories of glory linger
in a white settling haze
partly the dust of those statues
broken by foes crushed by time
the rest shed from everyday life
on cobbled streets thousands of years old
by day lifted by cars and brooms and tourist’s feet
it now drifts back home
in this after-dinner-drink hour
flat rooftops of the city
tile the horizon
and the Parthenon’s lit columns
glow like a nightlight
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