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Love of Monuments
for some reason
(somewhy)
I like monuments
hilltop ones
with hundreds of stone steps leading up to them
out of breadth
I reach the top
usually
in a grass patch
below the sculpted form
abstract or realist
i spit out phlegm
i read the inscription
words, moments,
dates, unveilings
buried in the past
a past of creaking wood & iron
references often obscure (to me)
the exclamation mark
of a cobwebbed narrative
then I turn
to face away
to gaze sweepingly
at town, at gown
or
folds and pleats
of mountain ranges
more geography soul
than history man
my eyebrowed eyes
fly to space
to line
monumental delight;
i love
breathless moments
dry lips
the cool wind
on the head
and neck of the long stone stairs
poem
by
Frank Meintjies
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