Statues

Still they stand upon their plinths,
placed there long ago.
Some we recognise for their deeds,
some we’ll never know.

Stone and wood, steel and bronze,
silhouettes against the sky.
Names and faces, times and places
fade as time goes by.

For those whose story is lost in time
Their deeds with them have died.
They remain to cast their shadows long
on all the passers-by.

Now, I don’t know why some should stay
and others be laid by.
But it strikes me that the loss is ours
if we fail to wonder, why?

For we will come and we will go
generations marching on.
Let’s leave a few to stand in time
for the birds to shit upon!