Today under a polyester Kentucky blue sky
it’s all long chainsaw drones, chipper yowls.
A storm tore into the streets late last night
ripped down some of the older, bigger trees.
 
It destroyed the pickets, split-rail and privacy
fencings that surround the mostly manicured 
back yards of this simple brick mid-century
Cape Cod and ranchette-dotted wonderland.
 
We have moved north to the city 
to be near hospitals and doctors.
In this enclave of sidewalks and parks
 
dogs on their leashes, we remodeled 
a house that was built the same
year my wife was born. This is recovery.