Time has altered the rafters of this house.
The teak has lost its marrow and walls have varicosed.
As a boy I used to play on a rope swing,
strung from the door frame of this house.
Then the world jived and met me in one mad cap dash.
Things have slowed down a bit now.
The swing has lost its momentum
And the door frame leans heavily to the side.
Soon the wrecker will arrive
And blow by deliberate blow
Penalise brick, wood and stone
Into their elements.