root

roots winding

between the potholes 

and the patches 

over many imperfections 

and alien frustrations

simple wants for most

then simply getting on

tradition haunts 

this tranquil place

of life out of doors

of milder days

of voices singing

like no one’s listening

like the whole world’s listening

familiar faces 

dot shadowed streets

branching outward

yet firmly planted

in stone layered places

with telltale traces

and sometimes open gates

where we long to peek

into still-life courtyards

and mostly quiet lives

shaped by sonorous voices 

upending the peace

with a whistle

a greeting

an impious burst

generous and guileless

connecting us

helping branches daily lengthen

roots strengthen

here bedded center

mid the measures 

and the layers