When they begin to erect new building in an old town
everything cowers, hunkers down except the ugly.
The ugly is in the concrete even before they pile it up
into office space and loft apartments.
The library and the townhall shrink.
Residents tend to scuttle faster
between the modern high-rise constructions.
The classic frontages, the Greco/Roman facades
once were the pride of a small town
now marble is only used for kitchen-tops.
Mid-West towns are not Manhattan
the sky here is too wide,
history gets brushed away under parking lots.
Nothing fits when the modern gets squeezed
into main street
or when it rubs against the sides
of traditional shop fronts.
Locals are told its progress, but even the ginger cat
who sits in the bay window
of 'Ye Olde' antique and yarn shop
knows better.
Categories:
frontages, poetry,
Form: Free verse