by Dianne M. Buxton
In Athens, then, truthsayers and foreign philosophers Retained their own quarters up on the hill. Dined by royal patrons, they would slip away, avoiding the palace women. At the foot of Apollo they laughed over mental puzzles Commented on gossip concerning the generals Inevitably thinking of war, they sobered - What is it exactly that philosophy should conquer? Our generals no longer indulge in such patronage The poets and the press form their own armies Formidable prisons provide them with silence and privacy They commit words of truth and wisdom to memory. Now armed with pen and paper, should I seek the tasteful phrases, Twist some tantalizing ideas, entertain beneath the lights, create a diversion? Suggest some miracle is immanent?
Dianne M. Buxton’s poetry can be seen in Global Poemic, Caveat Lector, The Griffin, Sanskrit, and The 2021 Writers of Kern Anthology. A graduate of the National Ballet School of Canada and an alumni of the Martha Graham School of Contemporary Dance in NYC, she retired from the performance and teaching in the dance world and now writes.
