School

The school will soon be no more
Like many it has lost its reason to be
Its silence when it is closed
And left to itself
Could be a kind of crying
The trees litter as if shedding tears
For a neighbour's untimely demise
At the hands of those
Who see other uses for the land ---
The next time I visit
There will be nothing left
Of this condemned temple
Where words became more than words
Gave me keys to unlock doors
Of worlds the eyes could not see ----
Two of the teacher's row-houses
Are in ruins, their tiled roofs caved in
The yellow leaves rotting on them
May hide a score of scorpions ----
To re-enter the landscape of the past
Is to ruin the memories with the present
To touch fallen leaves and be stung
Let the young stay young,
The old be the old of old
The past perfect never be lost.