Statue

Statue

Silver shadows, 

fleetingly in wings, 

lifting grey 

and morning 

across the sullen steel 

and silhouetted sky, 

And above the call 

of rooks, 

above the church 

and tower, 

block and stone, 

belief and faith, 

turning time, 

in hidden chimes 

and the passing 

moments 

of hurrying hours, 

there stands

a figure, 

cast in gold 

and bronze, 

poised in grace, 

light and dawn, 

arms outspread, 

head and shoulders, 

westwards facing,

a smile, 

a greeting 

to all who pass,

motionless, 

blind to the sky

living life,

and lost,

deep 

in the hurry,

far below.

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