They should never have planted that tree
so close to the old foundation. Now roots
invade its brick facade, crack it open
like a hidden truth,
release a tangle of young
hell bent on breaking up mortar
meant to last longer than life.
It’s how a country perishes,
army ants carrying its crumbles.
Hill-building.
One pebble atop
another.
Katherine Mercurio Gotthardt
Copyright December 12, 2024
Based on a writing prompt from @caititalks (Caiti Quatmann) on Threads
