It stands tall outside our house. Leaving us always in its long black shadow. Its surface is rough, cold and to most, quite unflattering, but I have seen glimpses of its softness. Sometimes it talks to me quietly at night. Tells me little stories of times gone by. Sometimes I must look away in terror, afraid it might collapse onto me. But Chimney, sweet Chimney I have heard that you hurt those you love. Maybe someday I might hurt you too. But until then let me keep you from falling.