On our quiet suburban street
a quiet little brick house
has stood for over fifty years
up the grassy slope from the
footpath its neat low brick
wall topped with little rose
bushes and colourful perennials
lovingly tended by the elderly
owner as she weeded pruned
under the graceful branches
of bottlebrush and kowhai trees.
One day her house stood
empty, doors open, large
windows stripped of curtains
showed emptiness right through.
Tradesmen’s vans came and
went saws and drills screamed
and screeched, hammers banged.
House and garden walls were
plastered rendered, painted
gardens dug up, concrete
laid down over newly
installed cables for power
and telecommunications.
She would no longer recognise
her home of many years.
Previously posted April 2018.
lifecameos 