The Neighbour’s
backyard is a collage of noise
a delight of music
stale jokes and lots of booze.
Does not matter to them
if sounds carry as a
drift of fumes
winding across the yard
then into our bedroom
interrupting the linkage
of our desires. But we’re okay
knowing across the way
are drunken folks who won’t
be able to find themselves
in the morning.
© 2009 Richard L. Provencher
Comments
lenchenelf | October 20, 2009 - 20:31
Wonderful sensory and censury impression 'sounds carry as a drift of fumes' atb lenax
Richard L. Prov... | October 21, 2009 - 02:34
Thank you Lena, your comments are appreciated. This poem is in honour of such neighbours, who for five years carried on their weekly trills, until I overcame the stress by listening to my wife. She said, "Let it go" and I did. Richard LP
Cavalcaderl | October 21, 2009 - 18:00
Richard
hop your well.
I like this bit true life
Yes hard but we have to let go
or become ill ourselves.I know
When young with wind up record player.
julie x cavalcader (:-
Richard L. Prov... | October 22, 2009 - 10:00
Thank you, Julie. Some neighbour's do not realize how hurtful their antics are, especially my downstairs friend whose wife is in ill health. Have a great day today, and God bless you. Richard and Esther
jimmysteh (not verified) | November 23, 2011 - 21:17
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