Streams in Greece

Maybe Diana crouched in an oak, an iron glint
or nymphs fished the Neda while reeds piped low.
I’ll never know. We were lost in phones, twins
in their monolithic glow, and the day is gone now,
the month and year are done. You have left, too,
and I have nothing warm or soft, no inner eye, no bliss
of solitude, just selfies, web feed, and a plea: Settlers,
tourists, travelers all, leave the Lethe, river of oblivion.
Hunt pebble gems in creeks, veined leaves and fungus
gills. Slick your animal bodies close in the high
heat of summer. Weave roadside lavender. Sketch with ash
from a dying fire. Make these your mortar and brick,
your skeleton, your altar. Look up.


Amy Karon’s poems have appeared in Eastern Iowa Review, Cricket, Half Mystic, Blanket Sea, Lagan Online, and Mystic Blue Review. She is also a medical writer and volunteers in dog rescue. She lives in Santa Clara, California.

Cellphone in Paradise illustration by C.B. Auder (magazine collage, 9 x 7 inches).

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