Nefertiti Poem by Mark Heathcote

Amidst the golden hues of some far-flung temple
a woman bathes in radiance all her own,
unaccompanied like she's just returning home.
No doubt she is a tourist escaping reality,
her books and pens have all been set aside
there are to be no more revisions, she smiles.

Her hair - auburn flung forward, not back
on bare shoulders—shows a winner's confidence.
Now it's me who's the tourist intrigued by
this strong, heady-authoresses profile photo
visiting thoughts, you wouldn't necessarily
find in some far-off pillared Egyptian temple.