From the depths the two mile fast walk brings sweat
by Bill Grace
Pencil thin the sidewalk’s letters
His influence now set in stone
Did he ever produce son or daughter?
Give them a tool more fine?
Will his face and voice travel through time?
Last night the car was egged
Prank predictable as a boy writing in wet cement
Fortunate for me
More easily removed than hardened rock
I too write my name
Perhaps it will outlast Jason’s
If something solid can be given.