Great effort has failed
and though time is kind to wrongs,
this structure we live in seems to be
forgotten by all but flies
and men who cannot imagine
life without them.
Great effort has come to worse
than nothing
a skeleton, a relic
looming, inhabiting thoughts,
memory, skyline, horizon.
New foundations may congeal
in unlikely places.
Among the relics and forgotten men
new spires may be formed
from old bones, and the wings of flies.
New effort may take hold of hope,
make it tangible,
relics become the new monuments.
Should another great effort fail
become the new relic,
remember, time is kind,
failure is a fly,
and memory is kinder still.