Cracked By Lex Capestany The pavement bears the wounds of time A root bound by stone struggles to break free. The concrete is peppered with gum, ground into the rock from decades of footsteps. The sidewalk knows all. If you listen close enough you can hear its stories. Races have been won here. Punches have been thrown. Children have played. The street is but an observer, free of judgment. It is unmoving, static, yet defined by motion.
22
