2021/6/8 #poetry Well, it finally happened. The curtain hanging out the neighbors window, in strips and tattered threads, was brought in. What does it mean? For years the curtain has been trapped outside, the mold stained window closed on it. Rain seeping in to color the bottom of the interior portion through capillary action. Recently, crows have been tearing at it as it flittered in the wind. I would look on and think that in a few years it will have dissolved away; crows, rain, sun, and wind eroding it to the last. Now the stained curtain is still displayed inside the window, and the wall below is colored dark with grime and growth from where the curtain lay, but the sight of a decomposing fabric, the frayed flag flying as a reminder of universal decay, is no longer there. The memento mori gone, the city seems a might less derelict. Did the owner wake up to their squalor? Did they die to have their mess cleaned up by someone else? Perhaps they just had a concerned visitor? Maybe the window needed to be opened to clear out some smoke. I doubt I'll find out.