Estrangement is a vertical act.
No wonder it's so lonely at the top.
A row of single-story houses
once stood in a sleepy row.
The walls checked on each
other. Shared food, gossips
and sometimes that rare,
priceless treat: family
secrets. Then money started
growing on private trees
and fell off ATM branches.
The slumbrous houses turned
into behemoths only the sky
could touch.
The walls no longer confide
in each other. They're too
tall for that. They only
shove each other sideways
like bully wrestlers.
A raptor in search of
its prey circles them
every morning.
No comments:
Post a Comment