Tearing Down Our House

[leafsailors ghost]

The doors came out first
old brass doorknobs well worn
polished by time
put in a pile
a smile for all the hands
so many of them gone now
low slung paper ceiling, pink panther insolation rained down
attic stomping, periling snapping
nails heat and itch
then the doors and cabinets used as scaffolding on the joists
saw the roof into strips
shatter sixty year old heat treated pine
Alabama sun getting down to business
saws all, skill saw, six pound hammer
crow bar hours
tarpaper, shingles, splintered wood and sixteen penny snakes
gravity
the woman does not quit
standing up to the wall swings the maul
again and again
the clay city tiles exploding
the roof went to the dump, rafters out back
the sky looks down at the worn flooring
a flood of sunlight
no more dark corners
The outside walls stand now
windows blinking in surprise
kitchen sink forlorn and naked
one by one
the beautiful old exterior tiles are worked loose
saved in stacks in the yard by the beehives
the wind whispers to the old house
high in the pines the broad wing watches for lizards
save the old iron windows with bronze screens
it is about real
it is about family and time
it is a new home breathing
another day settles down for sundown
a good cold beer was never better

[saw]

I've been doing carpentry since I was 14 years old...helped my dad put a new roof on our house, then add a new room on....it got into my blood....and I've done my share of demo along the way....so my eyes may see more in this poem than the average set....I felt like I was there with you...I understand construction thoroughly....no mysteries....I could taste that cold beer as if it were in my hand....