Stone Monuments

Perfectly placed in the restricted space
Roger Brook Tawney, now deep green in bronze,
Divides the traffic in Mount Vernon Place.
Around him each night the streetlights go on

And cast him in ageless, shifting shadows,
While he's stared down by headlights that turn and go
Past his park. Not so very long ago
He was the master of his age, but shows

Of daily disrespect; urinating dogs,
The bums drinking from bagged bottles below him,
The unconscious passing traffic and fogs
That come from the harbor to roll on in

Around him, confirm the indication
That our past is just an aberration.