Another Brick In The Wall

Things do not change; we change. - Thoreau

each and every day

down by the empathic river

i walk past the adamant, unavoidable, old mill

its clock and bell tolling the cadence of life

marking time

each hour adding one more chime

its rubrous, brick facade casting a shadow over the cement sidewalk on main street

that shadow has been narrow all summer

but now it's getting wider as the sun is lower in the sky

on hot days i amble as close to the building as possible

seeking its shade

now its shadow covers the entire walkway

i trod in the cool of its cast wraith

this place where people toiled and sweated as an exploited river spun its wheel

this place that wove sheep into fabric

this place void of emotions that does not feel

with irony, this place whose comfort i now steal

this place that does not pray or kneel

this place that has long since lost its power and zeal

for pride cometh before the fall

in a stark reminder that it's all

just another brick in the wall

Author's Note

"If we see nature as pausing, immediately all mortifies and decays; but seen as progressing, she is beautiful." - Thoreau