the buildings stand,
granite strong against the wind,
they seem to lean.
stately old ladies,
edges slightly softened.
the wind does take its toll.
and rain,
and snow.
peaceful now they rest,
they have survived the bad times
the fire.
they scorn the youth,
the chrome and glass Mies Van Der Rohe nightmares,
looming tall and ominous,
casting straight-edged shadows.
labeled modern.
and the tallest of the tall watches with a silent eye
and sways precariously in the wind.
and you would think that they would cower,
but, no.
proud and strong they stand,
granite strong
against the wind.
