No Faithful Penelope

No Faithful Penelope
© Surazeus
2026 08 16

Far removed from mundane concerns of life, 
Emma floats in cloud of beautiful thoughts, 
envisioning how people interact 
with creative wisdom of selfless love 
to help each other grow and thrive in joy, 
though men drop bombs on the town where she lives. 

Crouching low as she glides along brick walls 
to avoid explosions of sharp debris, 
Emma slips into the small grocery store 
where she buys butter, flour, eggs, and milk, 
then swipes her credit card with grateful grin, 
and hurries home to bake bread for the week. 

If time dissolves her happy memories, 
Emma sits at the piano and plays 
hymns her grandmother taught her how to play 
long before the days of exploding bombs, 
and sings as if this hour of strange despair 
may be the last she sings with bitter joy. 

Safe in lush garden of Hesperides, 
Euterpe plays the lyre of Mercury 
while Epicurus shows with diagrams 
how things are formed from atoms in the void, 
then she eats apple slice on toasted bread 
and listens to drone of planes in the sky. 

Painting people without faces or souls 
in orthodox religious-icon style, 
Emma hums and pets her frightened cat 
as buildings shake from blasts of falling bombs, 
then paints silver planes that blind angels fly 
dropping bombs on cathedral of her faith. 

When sly Petryshko arrives with warm beer, 
that he swiped from unmanned gas station store, 
Emma lounges with him on the back porch, 
and asks if he will tell her once again 
about his youthful trip to Pakistan 
where he hiked the Hindu Kush mountain range. 

Explosion from eyes of the laughing ghost 
knocks both of them stunned on the thirsty grass, 
so Emma cradles his head in her lap 
and smiles through tears at how his silver eyes 
gaze joyfully blank at Heaven of hope 
where he plays chess with Gabriel in the park. 

Since I am no faithful Penelope, 
waiting in vain for my Odysseus 
to return with wounded heart from noble war, 
Emma whispers alone beside his grave, 
I will not write your name on the wood cross 
that marks where you lie in my secret heart.