and expected you to be different--I was.
But you are steady and patient
like stone and mortar, built piece by piece
and dried in the sun,
and I am always all aflutter
like lacewings above petals or book pages
in the wind.
I hate time because it shapes me
like clay and so quickly I don't know
who I was two years ago.
It was a wrong I did to you,
but always I'll remember: you,
solid in the road, like a pillar of an old temple,
still standing after all the people have died
or gone away.
--Kimberly Wang 5/17/09
