Looking Back on a Successful Life

The house where I grew up is not the same.

The wash of sand in the backyard where Axis

And Allied tanks faced off, North Africa

Is gone, and in its place, a lush, green lawn.

The window in the gable in the attic

Where I flew out at night, like Peter Pan,

To soar and glide above the trees and rooftops,

Iron bars now keep the window safe from break-ins.

The bedroom where I heard the ghost, the knock,

Knock in the wall that woke me more than once,

The ghost was freed when the old lath and plaster

Walls were torn out, replaced with gypsum board.

To play, to dream, to see what is unseen,

If I return and make an opening

In my wall will the ghost from long ago

Come back? Can the improvements be reversed?