by LindaAnn LoSchiavo
It was the way the virus hunted us,
Like home invaders, viral proteins bust
We summoned Themis, begged her to preserve
Don’t pious offerings deserve their due?
Cold oracle, empowered to foresee
Her daughters, the Three Fates, intervened, said:
Damp winds snuffed out wax candles, slammed bronze doors.
Green patience whispered: “Men built holy shrines,
Ahead of today’s terrestrial sweetness,
[Author’s note] Inspired by “The Triumph of Justice”
Copyright © 2021 by LindaAnn LoSchiavo