This is here thanks to silver Birches Press for accepting it.
Living on the Second Floor
by Carolyn O’Connell
This door is solid lets in no light.
I walk to it through corridors lit by
globes that never dim, even at night,
as I walk mirrors echo my image back to me,
and black & white photos nod.
Every apartment has a pairing door
behind which my neighbours
live their secret lives. Tall black
planters filled with toped box trees,
seasonal flowers guard the entrance.
We pass through sliding glass doors
into a hall that’s filled with sunlight.
Behind my door I look upon
a garden filled with flowers:
blackbirds frolic on the lawn,
long tailed tits scatter over silver birches
and a robin, a wren nest secretly
beneath the balcony of my neighbour,
darting to feed in the hedge of holly.
When I open my windows
I hear their song, an orchestra
of birdsong plays morning & evening
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