House of Broken Glass

Near my home in North Cambridge there used to be a thriving greenhouse cottage industry.  My friend, photographer, John Hubbell, took photos of the last standing greenhouse in the area which had fallen completely into ruin.  House of Broken Glass, was inspired by those photos.  Soon after John took the photos, the old greenhouse was torn down and replaced with upscale condos.

Way down at the end of the block

Downtown, where nobody walks

Inside the house of broken glass

Sunshine and rain pour through shattered pains

And memories grow into the past

 

Remember when we spent all day amidst the plantings

And the children knew every bud by name

Remember when we called this place our little heaven

And pretended it would always be the same

 

Way down….

 

Back when the sidewalks were always busy

Way back when nobody ever locked their doors

Back when our boys all went off to do their duty

To fight that good fight to end all war

 

Way down…

 

Now the beds are all barren and forsaken

And nature’s taken back her wild form

Now my cradled dreams are tattered and shaken

And scattered in a gentle forlorn

 

Way down….

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