Do you know your neighbors?

The people who pass by

Carrying in their groceries

Holding screaming matches

That drag into the late hours

Playing majestic ballads for no one

Songs they think you can’t hear

Through the clapboards above you

All holed up in their small corner

Of the whirling dervish of life

They dance in their separate spaces

The only thing that pains me more

Is the thought of an empty dancefloor

I’ll take the banging and the madness

To the quietude of an empty home

Where I can hear the dust settle

I can’t say I know my neighbors

But I know them by their habits

The smell of Indian food lingering

Floating up the staircase to my place

The packages piled high outside

After a long weekend spent away

Women in saris and burqas

Watching their kids play in the snow

Directly below my bedroom window

I smile and think on winters past

Building forts with my little sister

Another low income neighborhood

That seems like a lifetime ago

Yet I can’t help but see how it mirrors

These ice castles shining by my door

Poverty is the great equalizer

A world of different cultures

Living under the same roof

Sharing the same dancefloor

— B.

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2 thoughts on “The Apartment

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