Cliff Dwelling
In a niche,
dust,
flowers
battered
by wind,
visited
only by
the bravest
of bees.
Everything
ages,
bakes
like brick.
Sun
through
metal
window
frames.
Dirty glass.
There are
children
squirreled
into nests
of softness,
park visits,
admonishments
not to touch
windowsills,
wiped daily
for lead.
This is not
poverty.
This is a
certain
vertical
choice,
lives
stacked
high.
At night,
a soft crumble
of concrete
in the walls,
a whisper
now and then.
Some lights
on;
some lights
off,
dreams,
thoughts
humming.
Marilyn Rauch Cavicchia 
Everything
ages,
bakes
like brick…nice, like that stanza…
i am intrigued by the poverty versus a vertical choice…as long as it is choice and not circumstance that puts you there…it is an admirable choice to live simple….
Thank you! I wrote this after a trip to the beach, where I looked up at the Art Deco and Modernist high rises that ring our lakefront. These are expensive places, yet they impose a certain economy of living.
But … I wanted it to be universal enough that it could be another type of high rise. In my experience, all have a certain level of grit, no matter how well kept.
Lovely and elegant– I think of my visit to Chaco Canyon about fifteen years ago, where I had played as a little girl– the Anasazi ruins…. very evocative! I especially liked: visited
only by
the bravest
of bees.
x j http://parolavivace.blogspot.com .. xj
Thank you so much! I was very intrigued by the Anasazi when I was younger. 🙂
Oh, I like this. Very good, cool.
Thank you very much, Jesse!
Excellent!!!
I have nominated you for the Reader Appreciation Award. Check out http://insanebloom.wordpress.com/awards/.
Wow! Thank you so much, Mohana. This is a great honor, and I appreciate it very much.