Moss green on a bustling street

The house now realm to lawyers

Chambers where startups meet

To plan attacks on Wall Street stars

It’s rose garden now a parking lot

Where once a man in a white straw hat

Dug a Sabre while weeding the plot

Buried in 1812 by a fearful patriot

The imposing door and entrance pillars

Muted the varnish and brass long gone

The bricked terrace crumbling rails in tatters

The walk now tilted slabs frost thrown

This was my palace as a child

A lofty place my grandpa’s manor

Wonders of gum wood to enthral

Crystal door knobs redwood doors

The Diningroom and kitchen stripped

Of all their culinary appurtenances 

No walnut table with chairs equipped 

The stove and icebox no marks or remnants 

These were my grandma’s vast domain

From whence tasty glories were conferred 

On hungry children knees grass stained

Those endless days greatly adventured

My steps less limber struggle the walk

It’s tilted slabs a challenge now 

My cane a valued friend this stalk

Of yew stained dark by life’s shadow

A smiling stranger at the door

Takes my hat my cane and arm

Assists me to the lawyer’s ward

There to sign my last testation