top floor boyz

even though it’s in the garden
that she feels almost whole
in this pandemic era
it sometimes feels like a fishbowl

at every other top floor window
there is frequently a face
watching as she writes these poems
in her sacred enclosed space

most days they are silent
mere observers who make no noise
she’s come to think of them
as the top floor boyz

early mornings in the garden
when it’s quiet as the grave
the grey-haired man at his laptop
sends her a smile & a wave

she wonders what he’s doing
for work he seems to have no lack
grateful for the greeting
she always smiles & waves back

the tall guy with the beard
has spider plants in his window
each day he offers a nod
she bobs her head hello

there’s a young boy – a student?
doing dishes at the sink
he calls out, “I love your garden!”
with a smile & a cheeky wink

she’s proud of her wee garden
this compliment she can’t dismiss
so she grins & bows
before blowing him a kiss

the sun moves across the sky
the day grows late
as one by one the top floor boys
their windows they vacate

in peace she sips her wine
on Nelson Street there is no noise
she raises her wineglass high
in a toast to those top floor boyz

copyright © 2020 KPM

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