Moving

My house has died

I know.... I passed by yesterday

my snow angel yard 

now chrome balled and birdbathed

the english ivy that held the walls together

hacked down by some psychopathic landscaper

I wonder who is living in my room ?

shall I dare enter by the yellow plaid kitchen ? 

does the callbox still ring

in the pantry

are there servants now

who beckon to its call ? 

the curtains are al closed

how dark it must be inside

the cracked pane from my baseball

now shiny new