Contact James McGonigal
Ropes of tears secured the scaffolding which held
a mile of planks on which all the workers stood weeping.
The wall had been speaking again in that damp
foundation tone that gave orders for its own fashioning:
North by northeast at 10 foot 4 inches in height
over hill and dale without bend for the next 2 miles.
Only the choice of lime-wash for each stretch now lay
at the workers’ discretion: ochre, blue or crimson
and they could not decide which might prove most pleasing
—hence their stasis and tears: they just could not decide.