26 February 2007
Tearin' Down the CheekHood
Moving in chez Cheek early last October, the trees wore their leaves. Color slowly painted itself outside the bedroom window. Sauntered about nekkid with no worries, as the entire neighborhood behind was deserted. All homes undone into houses, sold and emptied, yielding for the newly incorporated town's first elementary school.
Curtains closed as privacy's protection fell with the leaves. They accumulated; dried, unheeded, blanketing driveways, rooftops, and patios. Lonely abandonment, but peaceful. This feeling was familiar.
The new year brought the first signs of change. Screens removed. Orange plastic fences erected. Hard hatted men milled about. Houses scavenged for recyclable material. Then the demolition chaos began. Each day's destruction commenced 7ish, putting the alarm clock out of bidness.
And then Tonka truck days arrived.
Georgia red clay unearthed. Exposed. Naked. Foundation bones piled high to be carted off. Soon the bright, green revirginized leaves will bud, stretch, and fill in, hiding the adjacent street but delivering ample sun to brighten the Southern exposure. Despite the returned privacy, curtains may yet be drawn. Not to hide occupant nekkidness, but the neighborhood's.