Dream of Orestes

Behold, beware, Mycenae, the befated Orestes,

Agamemnon’s cold-shouldered heir, back from Athens --

today’s the day for settling accounts.

Clytemnestra’s overfed nights of wine,

Aegisthus slurping from the regal cup,

are at an end. The ill-advised House of Atreus

has debts, far too many unpaid IOUs …

That apple-cheeked boy, so readily dismissed,

now fully grown, resolute to write

a closing chapter to the bloody Trojan affairs,

has no time for good-humored reminisces

of long-ago summers gambling over Hector’s misfortune.

Tell me the truth, where you were that morning;

how you ran towards the assassin, stood firm

against the usurping tide. Show me your scars.

The only coin of exchange I’ll acknowledge is atonement.

Ken e Bujold