I live so close to neighbors, you’d expect
my house to be a fishbowl where you see
my every act, but here we all respect
and cherish our domestic privacy.
We aim our vision forward in the yard,
ignoring social noise unless it booms.
We give what space we can – it isn’t hard
to filter out disturbance from our rooms.

But twice in thirteen years I’ve harbored here,
a next-door house ignited in the dark.
A frightful fire filled our atmosphere,
and voices I don’t know rode every spark:
the neighbors never-noticed offered help
before the fire engines’ welcome yelp.

This entry was posted in Home, Neighborhood, Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s