sturdy statues,engraved
on the wall,
a rendezvous
for wandering souls,
like the wind
from the north
lingering. . .
upon a century old tree
bearing secrets
of the past,
Silent
as the dust
except
for murmuring voices,
flashing lights,
and footsteps that come
and go...
From one solitary place
to another,
Who is there to know?
By: Elena Maria Parcon
Date Written: September 29, 2008
Date Revised: September 26, 2011
