This is more or less a drafty draft--I'll be doing a slew of editing this month and this one will be included in that batch!
On Moving On, On Remembering
The house, gutted, stands in its quiet ruin
pushing itself to write letters to its past lovers.
Time to move on, the house says to itself
maybe now I can move past this
but when it bothers to fail,
it becomes unstable in every way.
Each day the bulldozer comes in,
carries a piece to bed, and leaves.
The home is gone, a shallow foundation