loss of history

Broken ballerinas attached with strings

slump dazedly in the dusty floor,

feathers from a previously glorious phase

scattered in broken lumps

clumped with blood and tears.

Haunting violin laments

through a voice crackling

with age

the loss of the past greats

as the gilded, stain-glassed ceiling

collapses with a tired groan

and shriek of rage and defiance —

but the yellow monsters sweep in

on wheels and elephant feet,

sweeping history and love and grace

away,

for a new supermarket.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create your website with WordPress.com
Get started
%d bloggers like this: