Travel

On the anniversary of the execution
the streets were quiet
shadowed by the sudden opening
of leaves in the early heat
exercises in perspective
empty to the point where the city
folded back its sepulchers and the travelers
spilled out and on to the next town

to go around the world
continuously to collect souvenirs or evidence
in relays of carriages and vessels
was not my intention
but here we are
suffering from deficient rapture
in the vast sun-flattened landscape
scaffolding stands ready for the son et lumière

we have arrived at the site
of the most recent disturbances
are shown the former prison
marked for changes to come
the smell of the damp cement
the stains a darker gray
the walls and seams a map
of loss and recovery
the dust of busyness
like snow on the ground
the chalky outlines of many feet

we emerge into the sunlight
around the corner
the drone and chirp of strange language
shadows of stone
infused with the dust and hue of stone
conceal the speakers
the shadows are black sharp, they slice
across the path; masking
the ruins we have come to view
eyes closed to the blinding sky
we walk on