Thursday, March 17, 2011


The walls are tumbling faster now
and I watch, hands empty and dry.
I hear wind and rock,
the grind and tear of ancient layers of wisdom.
When it falls I may look at it for a long time,
stare at the words that no longer exist,
the feelings that no longer are.
And turn and walk on.

1 comment:

thack said...

I like the beginning part as well. It does add to the poem.