Purposefully plodding on life’s gallery, patterned by the city weaver to bring joy to our toes.
Click of leather and plastic footfalls syncopated by stature, envelop the unnoticed senses through routine.
Roots ungulate stone flags with the speed of the ages, while crevice gardens grow abundant under moist shadows of towered leaves.
Mindless ants vent the shell, leaving dust piles of past’s crumbles, as they work in meager spaces.
Coursed, chamfered and channeled, a regiment of baked clay to repel water’s squish.
Some manila white, in contrast to muddy reds, some a plummy black with soot-burned skin; an honored sacrifice to harden the lot.
Lookup? is an undeveloped habit; Jagged on unfolding the story of man rock before me.
A masonic library, building an untellable codex of time as it passes, no ink nor ice cream drip stays long, but finely imprints its facade.
Evolving slowly, new recruits blur in sameness, only experience can develop the character of their nature, yet all line up for duty.
Teams of soldiers, the armor of the earth; protecting its hidden diversity from the industrious mammals that walk above.