Where history seeps deep:
Heat and history do not sleep
In stones where strangers meet,
Where strangers met.
This fabric holds and hosts
This gathering of ghosts,
This memory net
Wherein I roil and recall
Events and their recoil.
This concrete’s fertile soil
Records each rise and fall
Which fell into a sunrise
And startled itself alive.
The departures will arrive;
Still stone will turn hearts’ eyes.
22 May 2004
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