She wasn't there when it came down.
She had gone some years before.
She was just like the place:
Frail, sunken in, and ready.
Dad said that's what houses do,
Over time, when there's no one there
To give the place some purpose.
She wasn't here the day they came.
It would have been easier if,
In the night, the house just slipped away,
And we all woke up to find it.
It would have been no surprise.
But when they came with a bulldozer
And ripped it down with ease,
As butter on the dinner table,
I had to watch.
I had to see what happens
To a house when it dies.
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