Hail Caesar,

Bodies moist with sweat,

The slog of battle coursing through strained sinew.

A hand trails through chilled waters,

Casually splitting a large algae patty.

Memories of clashing swords,

Competing with fire and ash.

Parades filled with politicians,

Adorned with shiny raiments and gold.

Beware the Ides of March,

Though her crocus be bright and fair.

Many a gladiator did dream of Nature's vernal abandon,

Never to again see the sun.

Katryese Austin

(c) Feb 24, 2022