Residents
That cream-coloured car is there again
in the parking space at that block of white flats.
She's there every weekday, its owner:
a warden, official, administrator?
Does she work in a room there,
or wander the corridors, nattering to residents
who seem to be the walking dead?
Or does she shut herself away till home time?
Why do I find an interest in
that block of apartments,
full of those who amble from one part to another,
if able to move, are not closed off?
Am I to find myself in that place one day soon,
or dead before they can haul me there?
(Sep 2022)
Copyright © Andrew John | Year Posted 2022
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