Gray and dense,
stands tall like a column
of smoke crowning the
town with its presence.
Ghost from the past,
rises where once one stood.
Haunting from the sky
those that lay unprotected
below, in a moment still
fresh like rain drops
alive in the womb of
the gray and dense cloud.
Small and insignificant,
compare to the one from the
time of old, still a presence
of authority profuse from
its cloudy shape as if to
worn not to forget.
