i will allow these cobbled walls to sing their
bumpy beginnings, give their mortared veins
a chance to breathe. let us fill these center
places with salt, silt, sky; stain them with
truth and the moss green of breeze. can you
see that i am waiting to be something greater,
knocked down built up held fast by a grounded
sea? sit here with me awhile, and listen. I am.
photo and prompt from margo roby.