Tiny Poetry Time: The Wall

 

 

 

 

Do you think I’m pretty?

I asked the Wall

A great gearing creak of stone and oil took in a breath

rebar skeleton shifted fanged mouth sliding open to reply

And answered

silent

Do you love me? 

I asked the Wall

rusty streak eyes carved art groves of pear tree tears open to see

And envisioned

blind

Do you hear me? 

I asked the Wall

drumming vibrato earth shaking quake friction pitch perfect to hear

And listened

deaf

I left a copper in the relief:

and went through the gate

 

 

Forty-Beats #38