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3 - The Monolith

  For a decade or more,

  A wall has dominated the borealis view.

  Not of stone,

  But bricks and metal;

  A landmark to a house of follies.

  Home to two-score flock of pigeons,

  Who wheel and roost,

  Dance, breed and roost again.

  A more than grand substitute for the

  cliffs their wild cousins still reside on distant isles.

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  Now in the morn of septembre,

  I stare across the expanse where the

  wall once lay:

  Bricks broken down,

  Steel pillars taken away.

  Instead lies an expanse that crosses

  road and houses,

  And continues on into the sky:

  More welcome,

  More bright,

  Than the monolith that stood before.

  To the North,

  North east and

  North West I can now gaze;

  Unhindered into the realm of firmament

  and clouds.

  And only have photographs of the

  barrier that stood before.

  Would I have the monolith back?

  I will let thee guess...

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