AN ENIGMA OF HAMMER BLOWS

Day after day he comes,

parks his white coupé

and steps out in a pale

green neon vest, hurries

inside and starts

hammering; what paintings

on the walls find their place,

what wonders of IKEA their shape?

Is he the neighbour to come?

A workman, a lover, a friend in aid

for he or she that once shall stay?

An enigma of hammer blows.

The hammer stops, silence

until out in his neon vest he

walks; no word said, he

leaves as he came.

19.03.2018