Demolitions

A house on my street was demolished, which made me sad... so I wrote about it.

The bucket scrapes across the rafters.
Hydraulic arms sift through memories.
Destroying them.
Tearing the tendons of this fragile abode.
Births, deaths, marriages of true minds.
All have taken place within
These walls, and yet
Brash companies kill.

They see not the secret souls hiding in the nooks
Or the memories tucked into hidden crannies
Seeing only a plot 'too large' for the house, they blindly
Raze to the floor
What has taken years to cultivate.
Years of cherishment.
Years of care.

Broken.
Crushed.
Demolished.

On a related note, I just listened to this Freakonomics podcast about how the Japanese tend to consider their homes as disposable.