The Day The House Came Down

I hung a hummingbird feeder outside my window

The horizon is empty where a house once stood—

shingles crushed, glass shattered, beams broken.

I hung a hummingbird feeder outside my window.

The dump trucks are gone and the excavator is stilled.

The demolition work is done—that which withstood

tornadoes, storms, and depression fell in eight hours.

I hung a hummingbird feeder outside my window.