Sunday, August 29, 2010


A ruin is always cracked, fallen pillars, their capitals crushed,
with great jagged breaks where some force
of time or might severed strength from stone and toppled
the stolid column.
A broken pillar, image of loss, is always carved, adorned,
and placed alone with its own rubble.

In this room, the walls are painted, decorated,
with a clock hung to mark the time,
like a water wheels spinning as the river flows past
to the sea.
But there is also a pillar, tall and white,
taking up space just where you'd like to walk,
blocking your view of the woodwork and your friend
on the other side of the room,
and holding up the roof.

Oct 16, 2009

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