had he not looked up
after checking the time,
would not be aware
of clay tiles and irregular
ridges leading to a spire,
framed lowlit sky
no moon,
he waited as if for inspiration,
maybe too much beer,
wishing to go up,
scramble on moss covered surfaces,
lifting each tile,
looking for messages imprinted
underneath,
answers to his many questions,
an unsteady rock on feet
inhaling a cool sharpness,
it would wait,
no ladder or drainpipe available,
he thought of the spire
and building behind
and wondered if he could
get there.
copyright Margaret Bednar
http://margaretbednar365.blogspot.co.uk/ http://withrealtoads.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/sunday-challenge-around-world.html IGWRT prompt
velvetmedia 
This gave me such a delightful feeling as I read it..something about the tiles also struck me.
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I can recall a few times when I actually felt inspired by too much beer … an illusion I think. Great writing!!
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I like this very much: the idea of leaving the world view which has become overly familiar, and taking a different path, a rooftop highway. I especially liked the idea of looking for messages on the tiles.
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Thanks Kerry glad you stopped by
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I like the tight imagery of this poem. Very intense.
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Maybe he’d had too much beer…awww. I guess he had a sudden attack of sensing his own mortality and thought he might find some quick answers.
Great imagery with the moss covered surfaces and thought of him climbing up the walls.
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Nice poem… loved these lines …
“…lifting each tile,
looking for messages imprinted
underneath,
answers to his many questions…”
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