Lost City, ''Poom-Puhar'
A fallen city will not be effaced,
But drags you to its fallen doom, a place
You might have resurrected in a dream
Of fallen towers and battlements and dunes.
Ruins call in shadowed solitude.
Abandoned streets, where gusty doors complain
To you, who were the last inhabitant
And wandered on the pitted battlements
Alone, for whom the treachery of time's
A fallen city in a fallen dream.
Here are no sea-marks, no postcards on sale,
No scabrous excavations that accuse,
Only the baying sea, at which a girl
Once threw sand when puppy waves presumed.
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