Rubble on the Ground

Broken bricks and masonry,

old slates and slabs;

smashed and discarded,

left behind.

And yet...

What stories do you hold?

What lives have you lived?

What history have you seen?

Were you a house?

A building someone called home; where their trials and tribulations of life happened, within your walls?

Maybe you were industrial?

Did you watch machines make things; manufacturing processes bringing to life something useful?

Or a child's toy, designed to delight?

Maybe you saw something new; an invention that changed the world?

But why consider solely the mundane, the day to day, the obvious?!

Perhaps you were a castle; helping protect against invaders?

A tomb for a queen?

A sty keeping pigs warm?

A drain helping water flow?

From where I stand you could have been any of those

or all of those;

reused, repurposed.

Broken down and built back up.

So, you are here,

at my feet;

in pieces and discarded.

I see you not for what you are,

but for what you might have been

and what you might be next.

What exciting possibilities ahead!

But no rush;

you have patience and time,

to simply wait and see.