The Cobblestone Wall

Brian Schmitt


Break out at the wind at a second’s whim,
Burst from the door within, without a grin.
Fall down from the clouds in a gazing daze,
Looking on up at the greatest amaze;
Wonder and wander, plunder and ponder,
Riddles beyond the realm over yonder.
The cobblestone wall, of gray and of white,
Leads on to a tree of cherry in bright,
Where graves lay empty with little but bone,
Torn with the ages of dust and of stone.
When all to the left, the sun arrives soon,
And all to the right—dark under the moon.
The cobblestone wall, it splits dark and light.
Oft it remains, but not among blight.

Euphemism Campus Box 5555 Illinois State University Normal, IL 61790