Basement In the dream I am a house At a T-intersection A powerful truck Hits my basement above ground Devastating my foundation Its stone flung like gravel Its wood splintered And the rest of me gawking at the gaping hole. Like it’s someone else’s tragedy I retreat upstairs to my bedroom and soon the floor falls through Windows are no longer in tact. Friends cover the hole with a thin tarp It keeps out the snow But I know it is me who must rebuild (reconstruct) A strong part of me begins the deep chore Of salvaging material and foraging For new strengths I learn that the support walls are strong It’s a mammoth task for someone so unaccustomed to building trades. And my only tool a wrecking ball So much to learn about I-beams and steel girders, anchors Footings, joists, mortar and brick walls. A friend brings food, another some flowers. This will go on longer than hours Once I stop gawking at the damage, and realize it’s mine I must turn my bare hands into tools My bloodied knuckles ground in the soil New construction The building inspector says it’s unusual but sound Now the basement’s built, but the upstairs is a shell. How will I decorate it? A foreign concept.