i stand, doorway open
a tremble spins away
and no one notices
it's said that's how cold wars start
in some small room, a man whittles
stone into a monument
great women dream of Pastorale
and broken glass
violins draw blood, penitent men
trudge in pinkish snow
it's said that's how walls form
i, somehow from my doorway, see more
grand oratory, pulled from babe's mouths,
in gilded archways, brick by brick, stronger
brighter, not monotone, curiosity ignites
a storm
it's said that's how revolutions start
adt
cincinnati, oh
Copyright 2009 all rights reserved arpit d. trivedi
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