These marble eyes are weary
from the daily viewing of
intolerance and pettiness,
apathy and haste,
worry and strife.

Lay a blanket at my feet.
Share a glass of wine
with someone whose voice
your ears weep to hear.

Slow down and read
the bronze plate at my boots.
There is a story there
no greater than your own.

Comment that I look like
your uncle, your father, your lover.
Smile as you pass me
and I will bend the marble to
smile back at you and try my best
to wink.