At Smith, Caroline Buckler was a History of Art major, studying primarily with Phyllis Lehmann and writing her thesis under Robert Harris. Her husband’s professorship in ancient Greek History has taken both of them to innumerable sites in Greece and Turkey and permitted her to pursue her interests in Greek theater architecture. She has published in the American Journal of Archaeology and Archäologische Anzeiger. She has an article coming out this spring in a Festsschrifft for one of their colleagues at the University of Illinois. She has been writing poetry intermittently since she was 14 years old.
These tests take weeks; I incubate fear.
The unraveling hours make nothing clear.
But here I must return and return,
And against all odds endeavor to learn
The devices for holding the night away:
Penelope duping dark suitors at bay,
Weaving word to word to keep tick from tock,
Self from pity, the key from the lock;
Weaving warp and woof on whose silken track
Destiny glides neither forward nor back
Until the time—too late, too soon—
In these airless halls, this ambiguous room,
The truth pads in on clinical shoes,
By precise appointment, whatever its news.
I wait, a daughter of Damocles,
Beneath the blade of my own unease.