What Remains.

the room was dim and double deep

echoing with dirty concrete and unfinished drywall

hollow of the temporary pauses

of entrances and exits and the roar of motors

with a door twice the height

when standard was all

that had ever been necessary


a driveway of soft new asphalt

fresh and delicate gardens beside

and two kneeling together with gloved hands

removing their weeds

pluck by pluck

making rows for neat disposal


because they had gone

broken remnants remained

of paint cans

frozen and half empty

streaked with the colors of abandoned rooms

and boxes of odds and ends

tossed into the brimming trash can

that had been previously crushed

by the garbage truck