The Narrative Of Walls


Ubiquitous – Word of the Day


The Narrative Of Walls

The old brick wall was always there,
but I’d left it unnoticed for a time.
It held my gaze as I wandered by,
and I saw that it had aged
a little more than time allowed,
with the trace of salt along its base
and the dust of fretting bricks,
the earth returning to its place.
The wall is marked with histories,
of weather and of time,
the stains of rain and dogs
and local drunks.
Kissing couples,
and tennis balls
have grazed these ancient bricks.
I’ve leaned here,
and waited for a sign.
If I could squeeze this wall
it would have so much to give
by way of story,
some of it mine.

©Paul Vincent Cannon


View original post

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s