Bent and striped,
Twisted and crooked,
As if life has eluded their archaic bodes,
And fire has stripped them of their souls,
Pillars of ancient death amid a bounty of youthful life.
They stand silently waiting and watching,
Untouched by wind or water,
A reminder of life’s finity.
Copyright © 2002-2010 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose © 2002-2010 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission.