Saint Monroe Towers

I'm rolling by these towers 
that swerve, these towers
that turn,
twisting, slow, into Mississauga
skies, I watch 
new windows
burn with light, burn
with life, yet I 
still remember when you were 
hardly higher than a child, then
ascending, rising
canonized from flat Ontario ground,
and now
the miracle is complete,
St. Monroe alive
for thousands-

"...a landmark of a town
         bathed in round Babylonian crystal..."
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

Poem

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