Crawling the Great Wall

By Richard F. Gaspar (for Judy)

“Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,”

Frost once wrote, not considering this one probably at all.

Still, I crawl, and crawl, and crawl.

Up the ancient Asian stones, Mommy and Daddy, behind me, ensuring I don’t fall.

I stop to look and touch each stone, not considering at all,

that someone somewhere once thought there could be

“Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.”