Towers
I have lived in towers
I have lived with secondhand dreams
that wore out too easily.
My father was a basement for hope,
mother came with me
until she died inside her self-made cage.
In the many towers
women left as quick as they came.
A child was born unto us
a young wife for a while flew
out of a high window
when she returned
we moved into a basement,
it was a sterile apartment
that cared not for our ways and means.
In time we climbed a new tower.
Now we wave from different rooftops
with the same hands
that once held us together.
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