A hundred years ago, we lived among
our relatives; extended family
surrounded Mom and Dad when they were young.
That had a dozen cousins – they could see
resemblances in attitude and face.
Inhabitants of tenements and farms,
the aunts and uncles settled round the place,
and kept their doors as open as their arms.

Then suburbs were produced, with cars and lawns,
and we began to pull apart and dwell
in cul-de-sacs. We paid for space with yawns.
And no one had the wisdom to foretell
we’d have to build age ghettoes for old friends,
and euthanize our pets before their ends.

This entry was posted in Poetry, Universal Design. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s