We All Live Here
By Dodie Alber

What flourishes as this house disintegrates?
What rises as this roof fails?
What stands as water wends its way into these walls?
More than rot and rust,
I can tell you, it's a rich world for molds and mosses,
It's a rich world for insects and ferns and palm trees and for people
Who have found a place to take hold,
For people telling their stories,
People listening,
People with an eye and a heart for history,
For beauty, for possibility, for community.

I visited my sister and brother-in-law,
Vacationing on the 23rd floor of a Panama City Beach condo.
I loved being with them, all the while
Yearning for the home I claim.
Give me saw grass and marshland,
Fishing boats and houses that hug the ground,
Streets I can walk in, where neighbors congregate,
Telling stories and maybe playing blues guitar.
Give me the brown pelicans who hang out on the dock,
And the local laughing gulls.
I want to be near where the creek joins the river,
And the river joins the bay,
And up on the hill.

High on the hill,
A full 17 feet above sea level,
We (my husband and I) intend to make a home
On the site of the former Green Lantern.

Green Lantern,
Café, restaurant, juke joint,
Site of tragedy, pleasure, laughter, tears,
What stories will you whisper?
And will I be able to hear them
If I sit very still on the porch in the rain?

Things fall apart, then things come together again,
Then things fall apart.
After learning that we would be building here,
A long time resident said, "There goes the neighborhood."
He said it only half in jest.
The truth stands:
Things are falling apart.
And how will they come together?
Let us pray that if our hearts are breaking,
That they break open to one another.
An Apalachicola Parody of
The first four lines of Robert Frost's famous poem,
"Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening"
By Dodie Alber

Whose house this is, I do not know.
I can ask my neighbor, though,
Or join the Walking History Tour,
With Pam, this Sunday, from 2 to 4.