In celebration of the Home Is... series, here's the start of Richard Tillinghast's great poem "Big Doors":
I have seen with my own eyes doors
that two men would have been required
to push open just one of them.
Bronze, grating over stone sills, or made of wood
from trees now nearly extinct.
Many things never to be seen again!
The fury of cavalry attacking at full gallop.
Little clouds of steam rising
from horse droppings
on most of the world's streets once.