Chain Link Morning

The arm swings over the roof with a swallow's used to nest sheet.
Metal folds up like a letter nobody read in full.
Mama's old rose bush went in one pass,
The dirt piled high and brown.
I left my hand up in the cab; he doesn't lower his.
They mailed us one letter and a number to call; nobody asked me how it feels when the walls come down at all.
Take it down, take it down, the porch and the pine.