War came to Greece dressed
as my great grandfather
who must’ve started this
entanglement. Stationed
in Rhodes, the Italian in me
rumbling in the belly, metallic blurs,
screech of wind, watched the olive trees
burn. Their flaming limbs walking
up peninsula to the tower.
He watched bombs glide
into the stone, splattering
the foundation, invoking a lean
then a crack, like rotten trunk,
as the lantern sank into the sea.
Constellations blotted out.
Fisherman forget the shore.
He cups a hand over the other, lights
a cigarette, watches through haze,
a sinking yellow glow. Then wonders
how he will find his way home.
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Anastasios Mihalopoulos is a Greek/Italian American from Boardman, Ohio. He holds a BS in both chemistry and English from Allegheny College and is currently an MFA candidate in the Northeast Ohio MFA consortium. He also serves as the poetry center assistant for Etruscan Press. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Foothill Poetry Journal, Jenny Magazine, West Trade Review, Helix Literary Journal, The Decadent Review, The Great Lakes Review, and elsewhere.
