The wall is there.
Across the flattened mountains.
Only if you believe.
Only if you accept their words without analysis.
Urban gardens year round
sprout metallic scrap metal flowers.
In this pandemic time
acid rain vanishes, fails to burn the floral varnish.
The wall halts your progress.
Only until it sees you on the other side of its brick.
Your belief halts your progress.
Only until you dispel your factual ignorance.
Wonder will transport you.
If only you remembered where you set it down
and left it behind as a hindrance
when you walked through adolescence.
copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney
