A stone is thrown. A window
Shivers briefly in its frame, shatters
Into fragments, falls in a rain
Of glittering crystal.
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Message from LA: there is a Raymond Chandler type ring to your poem, LA at it's bleakest. Your poem is weighty with atmosphere.
I have seen this cycle in St. Louis and Detroit. Once proud well built buildings cast into neglect beyond restoration. Tomorrow the flowers and maples will be ripped out to build a strip mall.