Poem: A Slice in the Skyline

A Slice in the Skyline

It is an old city. Full of brick storefronts,
a relic of the age of the railroad,
a bit quaint. A bit antiquated. Still vibrant
but without much change to point to,

until of course, they built this.
All angles and swoops and metal and glass,
a jarring reminder just how far in history
the old city has remained.

You like it. You need those reminders
in your own life how much is happening,
how much changes and your own need
to change with them.

You go in. All space and light.
Full without feeling full, art
you never would have imagined.
Vexing at times. Soothing.

Your senses disturbed, as they were meant to be.
A reminder you are still alive,
that you do not need to see nearly as much
as you need to feel.

About this poem

The picture is of the Taubman Museum of Art in Roanoke Virginia. Roanoke is an old railroad city, and traditional architecture is the order of the day. Until the Taubman was built. Like the poem said, it is all swoops and angles, glass and steel. I think it is wonderful but, my opinion, even now. many years after it was built, is not the mainstream.

At times, we need to shake ourselves up a bit too. Change can be invigorating.

Preaching to myself again. Been doing a lot of that lately.


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