Pothole to the Grave


Watching it sinking

Discouraging blinking

The pothole grew deeper and dark


We poked and we prodded

Its existence was lauded

The source I thought I could find


In the end, I was wrong

I retracted my song

About the depth of an underground mine


What it turned out to be

Was puzzling to me

A cellar to a building long gone


Excavation was in the plan

This hole could swallow a man

Backfilling was certainly a must


Down below there was rubbish

From broken pipes to shrubbish

Efficiently smashed and buried again


At last it was finished

Its size not diminished

But growing to a most unusual size


Now our parking lots blessed

With an even biggerish mess

An oddly rectangular ghoulish type square


I asked if it was a seasonal

A question quite reasonable

Since our pothole now looks like a grave.


Audio Version
(As it sounds in my head)