Poem: Impovements

Impovements

Things progress, but
to go forward 
towards the new,

there is destruction,
is a necessity
for what was to go,

so they have taken
and demolished
walls and floors,

and the house is dust
and rubble, and noise,
with no safe place

for a foot to land,
nothing is right:
it has been ruined.

What it was
has been ruined,
smashed into memory.

But how could anything
have been changed,
been made anew

if what was here
were still to remain
as it had been?

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