Crushed skulls simple and crude
Would stomp on my own head
To obtain the certainty they impart
Looking through rude unpupilled eyes
Bronze chins of assurance
Angled toward certainty
Attraction of ancient symmetry
As if secrets locked in stone
Could make us stronger
Only we project simplicity and life vigour
Onto implacable masonry
Asking: could a garden of statues
Prolong our decrepit insignificance?
Answer: we are but flesh -
These stones will always outlive us
© shaun patrick green 2011
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