The Wake

That building has a face
from the fifties, bricks barely
holding on, cement tired
of fighting the weather --
an enemy employing many weapons.

There is a window on the second floor,
a tattered curtain trying its best
to frame the face of one
staring out, perhaps remembering
the polished coupe arriving
to whisk her off to the dance.

A manhole cover in front still holds
the date of 1959, so weathered, thick with rust,
but it remains, the signature
of days gone by.

I’m told it has been marked
for destruction, seems another shop
will fill the space of past ghosts
and I’ll watch, over the days,
as orange cones are put up,
a temporary fence erected
to keep out those that watch
a final burial -- no flowers,
just a bulldozer's angry bite.

Edward Rochester Esq.

On Monday, May 1, 2023 at 11:17:21 PM UTC, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
> The Wake
>
> That building has a face
> from the fifties, bricks barely
> holding on, cement tired
> of fighting the weather --
> an enemy employing many weapons.
>
> There is a window on the second floor,
> a tattered curtain trying its best
> to frame the face of one
> staring out, perhaps remembering
> the polished coupe arriving
> to whisk her off to the dance.
>
> A manhole cover in front still holds
> the date of 1959, so weathered, thick with rust,
> but it remains, the signature
> of days gone by.
>
> I’m told it has been marked
> for destruction, seems another shop
> will fill the space of past ghosts
> and I’ll watch, over the days,
> as orange cones are put up,
> a temporary fence erected
> to keep out those that watch
> a final burial -- no flowers,
> just a bulldozer's angry bite.
>
> Edward Rochester Esq.

We like "just a bulldozer's angry bite." Most cities don't keep their older buildings, and those are deemed older than 20 years.