Wars

We read The Odyssey by Homer in high school, and I remember being fascinated by Penelope. I thought her even stronger than Odysseus, though he was the manly soldier off fighting the crazy monsters on the way home. How strong she had to be, to wait so long, and then outwit the suitors who were wooing her.

I know the story of The Iliad too, of course, and I’ve seen Troy, with Brad Pitt. But I don’t think I’ve actually ever read the epic. It’s on my list, and has been forever.

My husband has these gorgeous hard paperbacks of the two epic poems, and I love to take them out and flip through them. Eventually I will sit down and tackle them, but not yet. I’m not brave enough yet.

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Old Timer’s Day

Old Timer’s Day

 
When the tall puffy
figure wearing number
nine starts
late for the fly ball,
laboring forward
like a lame truckhorse
startled by a gartersnake,
–this old fellow
whose body we remember
as sleek and nervous
as a filly’s–
and barely catches it
in his glove’s
tip, we rise
and applaud weeping:
On a greenfield
we observe the ruin
of even the bravest
body, as Odysseus
wept to glimpse
among shades the shadow
of Achilles.
–Donald Hall, Old and New Poems