downstairs there are moans
followed by screams . . .

the wall shakes & my bed rattles
as I lie awake & listen.

it's 3 in the morning & these poems
are taking me nowhere.

so I get out of bed & glance at
the night sky, thinking, that if I had

a needle, I would knit a light refrain
into the woolly clouds

something like, 'Welcome to
the world, are you having a good time?

Poem © Mark Pirie, 1999