the wall paper

the wallpaper
like scales of ancient
fish, too weak to
swim fast or far,
comes down slowly.
the ripples
of pale brown
skin peeling
uneasily
in the soft sunlight
eeking in
from the alley way.
what year it went
up, you aren't sure.
but up it is and good.
stuck with clay
paste and smoothed
down tight
by hands that
are probably gone
by now, but
the paper is
unbudging through
the decades.