Renewal On the River Vitava
There stands a Gehry building
erected on the rubble of a bombed out
apartment house—
a conjoined pair of tall and slender structures
that remind passersby of music.
The people of the city named them
Fred and Ginger.
Their dialogue and tension
dance in a play of lines and curves,
Fred’s right-hand tower, a globe
laced at roof with open steel.
A dashing round top hat!
Ginger’s outstretched arms,
a terrace, bridges the two facades,
Fred wraps around her
graceful silhouette next door
in permanent embrace.
She soars and flairs,
skirt and crinolines twirling.
She’s showing off a bit of thigh,
her sturdy legs.
Let’s raise a glass
to Fred and Ginger.
Let’s synchronize
like those two dancers.
Bring down the house
of carnage we’ve inherited,
rebuild brick by brand new brick.
Bury in the cornerstone
the ruined rusted key.
