Wine dark Aegean Sea.
My father's world. Made real in my childhood
by his evening reading of epic poetry.
I am painting a poet, veteran of war. In ancient Greece.
I am painting him looking out to sea. Writing.
Not the usual way that poets compose
in these times of remembered narrative,
but either there is a family memory of writing,
or he learned to read and write
years ago in another place.

[ intertwined with remembered lore]