poem-

We drove to Mount Washington yesterday
and while driving we passed an abandoned building
At one time it may have been a convenience store
Its roof is caving in, the walls are pushing outward,
the paint is badly peeling leaving scars from weather
It looked tired and sad. I felt a strong feeling of nostalgia
As though the definition of the word was tangible-
as I literally felt the building’s pain of memory, and how it grasped
at the driving vehicles to help push it back to when it was healthy.
Back when trucks stopped, letting out footsteps that walked into
its doorway to view its craft, but that was then, and so we too
left it behind, yet I thought about it and carried a portion
of it with me. Maybe it’s just rotting wood.
Maybe next time I won’t pass. Maybe I’ll stop and walk into
its failing structure to feel anything else it might want me to feel.

-M. Taggart

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