weighted down heavily on the right,
I tread down the edifice stairs. Hardly
noticing the students or otherwise brilliant beings meandering,
waiting, discussing, in this light,
who knows what?
It's gone past me now, into the history of the days
gone by, I continue on my way,
to who knows where?
Pillars behind me rise up to the above,
with no definitions,
who knows how?
Pigeons observe on my left,
waiting to find, food perhaps,
who knows when?
Nothing is certain but the day
lighting the way,
moving forward, never looking behind,
Who knows why?
Writing by Regina Stemberger