9 11
9 11
Oh, the tall towers of Ilium, shining golden in the morning sun,
Are tumbled ignominiously, and a myriad
Souls are turned to dust:
And this sudden host
Of untold grief
Disappears.
Their tales
Legion.
.........................................................................................
This and some of my other poems are available at
https://www.fictionmagazines.com/magazines/five/
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2016
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