Now it's gone.
The house across the way
that was always there
lays collapsed upon the ground,
a pile of bricks and wood
exposed to the air behind the tilted tree.
The birds have all sung
about its demise --
the sparrows and the cardinals,
and even the beady eyed grackles
who are here to steal the others' eggs --
like the men who stole the bricks
right from the face of the house
before leaving it -- an eyesore for weeks.
Everything is greening up, alive as ever,
around the massive pile of debris.
And I am listening to Beethoven's sonatas
mixed with all the birdsong --
telling it like it is.
This new view -- these layers of exposure
have made our eyes skip over
what it all means.
We are left alone, again,
to examine the rubble
and all the space
Anne Rashid teaches American literature and creative writing at Carlow University. She lives in Regent Square and loves to run, bike and bird-watch in Frick Park. Many writers featured in Chapter & Verse are guests of Prosody, produced by Jan Beatty and Ellen Wadey. Prosody airs every Wednesday at 7:30 p.m. on WYEP 91.3 FM.