TURBINE | KAPOHAU

BRENT KININMONT

 

Mountain Path to Ancient Thera

 

Still the legs won’t budge.
Just ahead that

sudden narrowing,
where the odds of

tripping, tumbling
over the bluff

seem heightened.
But here’s a family

squeezing past.
Parents side by side.

Shadow them
far as the orphaned

column drums,
and the marble base

for a naked runner
no longer standing there.

Prised from stone
to melt the bronze.

Two cavities left.
Mama, look!

His feet, they fit
even in sandals.