Poem: Rocks, flowers, and walls

Ruins at Knossos - click to enlarge

I sometimes see the faces of Turks and Greeks
Fog in bafflement
When a tourist snaps a photograph

Of a pile of shattered bricks
Or a hole in the ground.
I can almost channel their thoughts:

Don't you have your own
Rocks, flowers, and walls
In America, Holland, and France?

Did you really come this far,
This 12,000 miles
To take pictures of a dog?
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