Statues

I live in a place
Between map and terrain
Such fixity is ironic to me.
My life is a vain pursuit
of recklessness without mortal danger
It seems as if
I watch the petals fall
In their falling I feel alike
Straddling the irreconcileability
of the static and dynamic
In flux, in flow,
And moved by statues
That grow green black
By rain, in a city.