It only took one hand
to knock the can
and make it fall.
A single line of red clings,
still wet upon the shadowed wall.
Spilt paint to some;
a catastrophe for others.
Still that red line clings,
silent and still, upon a matchstick hall -
and whilst being built upon the sands,
never were there any plans,
for what to do should the tide make it fall.
