Idle Local

Brick wall mortared
smooth built across
a path lined
on either side
with thorn thickets
sun dried to
brittle sharp spears

Casual Hiker sits,
shorts thorn slit
and with sneakers
that upon bricks
slip, there stopped
by a wall

Idle hands draw
fingers through the
dirt etching in
an X without
an O which
alone is unable
to play Tic-tac-toe

Trails bringing travelers,
whose khaki manicures
disagree with such
a harsh obstruction,
join in games
and carelessly play
waiting for the
mortar to crumble
and the wall
to fall away