Marble Tells

Clear marble, white like a flash of sunlight on a clear spring, mounts high and round in a sky of moss green. Round polished roofs stand like smooth stones along a river bank, still sparkling with felcks of fools gold and water droplets. Marble everywhere, strong, soft, yet secure. Lonely streets, quiet buildings, with every door shut. This was home once. Now barren left and right. A family shattered through the departure of one wayward duckling. Ugly or not, she was surely the part most beloved by all else save the marble pillars who knew her disposition too well. And now they turn dark.