The Mark

a stony work of splendor
made do upon the ledge
hammered by the starkness
weathered by the wedge
stricken maze of Babylon
mauled by maliced claws
prized by all the populace
breaking all the laws
gone a-begging for the feel
or even just the sound
shot for never even knowing why
the world was flat or round
flanking forward on the march
come stormers from the south
looped and circled winners
slamming from the mouth
ridged and lifting steprungs
the ladder to the top
waiting for the boldest
who can promise not to stop.

1979