Composite Woman

The original composite woman
woven with garlands and figs
is in her stony element
fluted and fixed standing
bearing all the plinth and
jowl of stone wearing
her down, the
sands of time are turning
in her favour for
the wind does not grind her
nor the water
quickly and easily
as grains of sand are
carried to the sea - no
grandeur and
haughty are the ancient
buzzwords of today -
beside her a beggar man
bends, picking up sticks,
backladen with spiked
wood, and she
watches him warily, her
stony eye settles
on his form and she
sees how his
clothes are faded and
torn.  There are
holes in space she
thinks to herself which are
endless endless like a
neverending shelf attached
to a neverending wall
and filled, they are
filled by those
who do not carry but
who crumble
and fall.

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