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