House of Broken Glass
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