Poetry Visualized

THE TENACITY OF ARCHITECTURE

I'm back.

I dread returning to a town.

I rented there once.

That has a new door.

And there I worked.

This block is so rundown.

I said. “I'll never step back

in that store.”

I crashed a party there.

That's new, to me.

Those folks divorced.

Their neighbors moved away.

I guess that lady died.

They closed her bakery.

Remodeled.

Gone.

That's here till Judgment Day.

New cities never frighten me

because I re-create myself.

But could I here?

So few remain

who might recall my flaws.

Could I forget my past?

No, ever near are haunt houses.

I know every ghost.

The ones with my own face

I dread the most.