Of neighbour’s nightly light intrusion

An attempted poem

A crazy police searchlight floods our house
It infiltrates the office, kitchen, bath—at night
Hitting us across the space of three gardens
Undisturbed by the leave-less trees in our back yard
We are wondering if the neighbour
Standing still—a statue—hidden behind the light
Is
A psychopath
A voyeur
A crazy stalker
A wild life enthusiast
Afraid of burglary
Will he …
As for he is a he, towering on his backstairs, smoking, looking through binoculars
… Ever ring our doorbell and solve the mystery?
Do we want him to?
Will the searchlight ever leave us?
Give us our space back?
Will I put this poem onto the office wall, for him to see with his binoculars?
An ‘in-house’ Art installation
Using calligraphy?
 
 
 
 
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