The bulldozers, with unsmiling jaws,
sneak around behind your street.
Their growling engines go unheard.
They lurk until you go to work
then devour your walls and windows,
chew your garden and rooms to dust.
All they leave is a flat facade,
a movie set illusion of your home,
a blue door with absence behind it.
All the poems I wrote last year are available as an ebook for free. It's called Lost in April Fog and you can download it here.