4.18.2021

deep in private thought

Back at the hotel, watching her loosen, then comb out 
her russet hair in front of the window, she deep in private thought, 
her eyes somewhere else, I am reminded for some reason of those 
Lacedaemonians Herodotus wrote about, whose duty 
it was to hold the Gates against the Persian army. And who 
did. For four days. First, though, under the disbelieving 
eyes of Xerxes himself, the Greek soldiers sprawled as if 
uncaring, outside their timber-hewn walls, arms stacked, 
combing and combing their long hair, as if it were 
simply another day in an otherwise unremarkable campaign. 
When Xerxes demanded to know what such display signified, 
he was told, When these men are about to leave their lives 
they first make their heads beautiful. 
    She lays down her bone-handle comb and moves closer 
to the window and the mean afternoon light. Something, some 
creaking movement from below, has caught her 
attention. A look, and it lets her go. 
 

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