Fort Roig

He languishes in Earth's young clasp:

Her curled fingers and open wrists are

Love swells in Time's breathing.

Longer he shall stand

Than our spindled toy chips 

At his feet, the city.

He sits and simmers in 

An awesome knowledge, endures the

Coarse ignorance of barking dogs and 

Growling cars, the taunts of

Thoughtless white satellites which

Glint like flies behind

His gravely staring archways.

Climbers search the walls for 

The nod to embrace, negotiating

A bodily business amidst the

Majesty of centuries. 

They're Earth, folding round him and

Circling cracks - 

Born to dwell there

Without reverence or absurdity.