Cliff Dwelling, for Open Link Night

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.

 

 

For Open Link Night at dVerse Poets.

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9 thoughts on “Cliff Dwelling, for Open Link Night

  1. 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.

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