This strange glyph,
some artist’s desperate incantation,
attempts to bridge the gaps
of these quietly eroding walls,

but even art cannot redeem
this blighted old mill
that once devoured the giant
firs guarding virgin shores,

these strange letters can do
no more than celebrate
the beginning
of an end,

demarcate a time
when unable to restore,
even art seems to
deface our world.

When all else crumbles
and industry lays waste
our land,
what more can

one expect of art
than to record
the slow coming on
of that final dissolution?

5 thoughts on “Graffiti”

  1. Thanks. I consider all my poetry published here to be in draft form and am probably notorious for constantly changing words or lines to more accurately reflect what I want to say. Of course, on this one I even changed the picture to more accurately reflect the idea I was trying to express.

    I think I use my photos to inspire the poetry.

  2. Then you tempt me to return, not only for your possible response, but to see your poetry and photography in motion. Are you offering these gifts for publication anywhere else?

  3. I’m glad you and others enjoy these, Wenda. That certainly makes it more fun to produce them.

    I’ve thought of offering prints of some of my photos for sale on this site, but I really haven’t thought much about trying to get them published anywhere else.

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