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The Water Tower

As I stand on step number one,
I feel the warmth from the setting sun.
Another foot forward, step number two.
I pause a while to enjoy the view.

I turn my head for one last time,
As I start on up, my tedious climb.
I hold the wall, there are no railings,
Another of the tower's failings.

Does it lean to the left, or the right?
I wouldn't risk it in the dead of night!
The room at the top is a bit damp,
But anything's good if you're a tramp.

The wall is warm as it touches my arm.
All is peaceful, and I feel so calm.
Because of a piece of bread, and a sip of wine,
For the moment at least all this is mine.

 2001

Copyright © Raymond Westley | Year Posted 2012

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Raymond Westley Date: 2/11/2013 9:40:00 AM Hello Dave. Your comment has made me think of other peoples interpretations of the written text. Thank you for your comment. I wrote this poem while enjoying a sundowner at a friend’s home. The water tower overlooked a west facing valley. She was asked by a neighbor to demolish the tower as it did not fit in with the surrounding trees and scenery, although it had been there for many years. It is now a pile of rubble. I knew that it would not be there for much longer. Raymond Login to Reply

Dave Timperley Date: 2/11/2013 1:30:00 AM As I read each line without scanning down I saw you going to the scaffold to hang. The odd pictures the mind creates sometimes. While Is it here with the back patio doors open I can hear the wind rustling the olive trees in the garden,but I had to look to see if it was raining somehow from a clear blue sky. Lovely read Raymond. God Bless. Dave. Login to Reply