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I have walked down this memory lane before . . .
There's the townhouse that once I inhabited,
With its polished floors and pocket doors and drafty stairwell,
And its Dutch stepped gables and figgeries.
Further down the block, a piece is missing;
My mind flutters trying to reconstruct it.
The site's now a fenced-in gravel lot
With cars and signage promising future
Retail opportunities.
In this way, as we live, we collect our corpses,
Until we become a corpse ourselves.

Reviews

[Brent]

To some extent, people need to reflect on their past. Doing so helps us learn from our mistakes and appreciate the journey of our lives. Yet, it's so easy to be consumed with how things used to be. We remember things as they were, but oftentimes they will never be like that again.

Progress is necessary for our advancement as a society. For our entire life, we build new by destroying the old.