Old House

by Karen Friedland

Nothing ever comes out as planned—

the projects, the objects

never look quite as promised

and the old house is irrevocably altered,

thrown off its axis.

And we, the inhabitants

are in flux,

flustered by these new developments,

feeling the house injured

offended, yet again.

Someone whacked at it

with a hammer

and truly, I feel bad

because sometimes it’s best

to just leave a poor, old house

alone.