The Howling Owl
Published in

The Howling Owl

temporarily abandoned building site.

sonnet.

photo by author.

the days are shorter now. the rains have come
again; the rebar’s rusted at the site
across the street - poured concrete’s halted height
sprouts metal stubble. when resumed, will some
intrinsic flaw within this structure hum,
reverberating through the humid night,
a sign this rust is lurking - hidden blight,
an ill-formed tuning fork that jars the thumb?

the tower might be built after a pause,
but some discoloration, mark or line
of its delayed completion will remain.

the future site, unveiled to great applause,
might send the architect who sees these signs
into infinitudes of inner pain.

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