Click below to listen to the narration:
the aggregate once stood so high...a monument of tiers...beneath the vast and bruising sky...indifferent to all tears...the patient lichen took its hold...the ivy sought the seams...and time...a story to unfold...sent water through its dreams...the rain and frost...in slow accord...pried open every joint...but human hands...with careless word...did aid the breaking point...a chisel mark from an evening past...a stone removed by whim...the ground that shook as trucks drove fast...began to loosen every limb...it gave a groan...a final sigh...a sound of great distress...beneath the ancient...watchful sky...collapsing to the mess...the dust cloud rose...a spectral veil...where chaos reigned supreme...and then began the winding trail...of nature’s waking dream...now came the folk in fur and plume...to view the broken spire...within the growing...earthen gloom...above the funeral pyre...the soft-hoofed deer* stepped through the dust...the raccoon pawed the ground...they spoke of ruin and distrust...at every broken sound...the crows on jagged edges sat...the turkey buzzard wheeled in air...the black squirrel with his chattering chat...spoke only of despair…what brought it low...was it the wind...the hands that pulled away...what hope...what future would they find...within the coming day...