Obscure Poetry Corner
I fell in love under the crush of palaces and buildings
Words marked a hundred years ago
I cut my teeth behind the shadow of an old revolution
Where tradition isn't about custom, but rules
Sandy beaches with seashells shoved a thousand miles from home
I learned everything I knew on a hilltop where my ancestors died
Everything is so close, we just keep brushing against our ghosts.
The potential wields a broken wild call
Governments and our buildings
Their Stonehenge.