A home with a crooked spine
Bent and notched with age
Painted walls wrinkled and worn
With telling marks of time
When the years come and go
And thatched roofs crumble
Or wallpaper peels
And wooden steps rot and buckle
At least the foundations will remain
A pitted depression in the ground
Filled with fragments of memories
Recollections of babies rocking in cradles
Late Sunday brunches
And...