a humid evening walk in the seaport
offering vistas of glass and metal and stone and concrete
details of the new district haven’t settled into the consciousness yet
randomized paving patterns float on the fill above the ancient harbor
misaligned windows echo the current cliche - all that glass…
it’s understandable - let us be modern after all
but if lack of order is the new order
will the details still ground us
or will noisy facades clamber and jostle for our attention
does each generation grapple with this
looking for a moment in the language to recognize
for some grammar to set us on the path