Reconstructing Strongholds

Free AI web copilot to create summaries, insights and extended knowledge, download it at here

586

Abstract

o one at the bottom of the hill, looking up.</p><p id="0937">As architect, I had big stones carried with your help while my chafed palms tremored and quaked. Boulders don’t avalanche themselves — there are forgotten fault lines bisecting this slope.</p><p id="1389">Erosion will outdo effort — cascades of gilted pebbles lurch and loosen. But I will turn my broken back into a shovel, my shovel into a kingdom, and the spikes of my crown into battlements ready for your next attack.</p><p id="29a9">If you enjoyed this poem, please feel free to check out my others here:</p><div id="f

Options

47b" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/poetry-c81a5256892"> <div> <div> <h2>Poetry</h2> <div><h3>Here’s a collection for your reflection of published poem after poem which all call Medium home.</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*QVcZ5inh3vS4EC2W)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

A poem about the structure of broken relationships

I’ve been living double so long I don’t know how to be one — who says that a beginning is something benign? No one at the bottom of the hill, looking up.

As architect, I had big stones carried with your help while my chafed palms tremored and quaked. Boulders don’t avalanche themselves — there are forgotten fault lines bisecting this slope.

Erosion will outdo effort — cascades of gilted pebbles lurch and loosen. But I will turn my broken back into a shovel, my shovel into a kingdom, and the spikes of my crown into battlements ready for your next attack.

If you enjoyed this poem, please feel free to check out my others here: