It was a strange wall
so high and firm
with graffiti'd thoughts
as far as I could see
with such a range of
materials
smooth lava still hot
and wrinkled granite
soft soap
and dripping wax
and I'm told;
I built it.
But I do not
remember
although each part
is so familiar
and most strangely
one time I found;
a door.
I'm sure it is there
somewhere
but I cannot find it now
and when I found it;
or perhaps it found me.
I fell through
and on the other side
of that wall;
it was not there.
David Taylor
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-wall-that-is-not-there/
