If These Walls Could Talk…

Written by Niamh Kelly
Art by Archie Binamira

Centuries of history form the foundations
Of buildings structured under expectations,
The rooves groaning under the weight.
The battles and debates fought, the speeches recited,
The revolutions fantasised about
entrenched into the ground, unmovable, unmissable.

Yet anecdotes are swept into crevices like crumbs
To be nibbled on by mice, too small to sustain larger lives by themselves.
But when thousands of lives converge briefly
And move out radially from the centre again,
Snippets of stories are carelessly tossed into the air, repelled by ears unwilling to hear,
drifting directionless like leaves in the wind,
Falling to the cobblestone paths to be crushed underfoot or blown into web-strewn corners.

Accumulating alongside dust until the windows are eased open,
Restored breaths telling tales from decades ago entwine with the freshening breeze,
Chasing away the stale and static deadened air,
Floating upwards to whisper softly to younger minds, “Look down, look around, look beneath!”
And the forgotten conversations are unearthed.