To Nike of Athens

By Carol Park

Nike means victory

Oh, you of dusty hillsides, stony 
terraces, fig trees, ice white stucco
cities—your venerators birthed citizen’s vote. 

Your freeman in tunics argued 
rules, the need to placate weary
slaves. Give them plays! Distract.

Oh Goddess, of gorgeous, marble Temple,
in luscious drapes of stone linen, you’ve lost 
your head. Your sight vanished. You can’t

see chained immigrants. You stand on measured
boulders trimmed, aligned to rocks, making pavement 
within stone cut walls that mesmerize—what Greek feats. 

Will you question their myths? Their kind
of democracy not bestowed on all? You, Goddess, 
won’t you fight for people of all hues, all stations?

Oh Nike, hear the sage owl’s hoot! 

Do you know Ares rampages & propagates 
hellish lies. See the throes of those 
his nail sharp boot tramples underfoot?

I’ll be your eyes, oh Goddess! Can I tell
you how noble dreams die when rule & power
are not fairly shared with others. Oh, Nike,

rebirth yourself! You bare strong, marble shoulder 
and stoop for sandal—now strap it tight! Take up
impervious helmet & stretch out your brilliant wings.

Carol Park’s six years in Japan forever altered this California girl. She relishes hiking, gardening, mentoring, and reading. She also delights in teaching ESL and volunteers in a jail. Her MFA comes from Seattle Pacific University.  Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in The Haight Ashbury Journal, Black Fox Literary, MiGoZine, The California Quarterly, Cider Press Review, Making Marks in the Sand (anthology), the Monterey Review, Foreshadow, Sharkreef, Viral Verse: Poetry of the Pandemic, and New Contexts: 2, 3 and 4. Find her poetry reviews in Presence and the Cider Press Review. Her novel set in Japan is in the works.