Pilings

the pieces of wood 

stand in the water 

like grave markers 

for the abandoned dead

recollect

how they have receded 

from remembrance 

where the fog 

shrouds them 

at their feet 

the water of Styx swirls

into oblivion 

where the platform stood

for the old warehouse

these pilings were raised

a hundred years 

in the past

or further yet

up from the dark

water they rise

standing still and still

standing 

we have forgotten 

how they were lifted

how they were placed

even the trees that

were sacrificed 

into their being

are disregarded 

entire forests vanished

as if turned into mist

Photo courtesy of David McCaskill

https://500px.com/photo/213453639/Swing-Bridge-I-by-David-McCaskill/