The person who lives here must be
in love with clowns — there are so many
sitting on the shelves, usually in pairs.
The walls are full of pictures,
all different kinds, with clashing colours —
pink and red, blue and green together.
One person lives here, with all these chairs.
How many visitors are constantly expected?
Or does she change position on a whim?
On the windowsill a bunch of geraniums
is stuffed into a little brown vase,
leaves and flowers crowded yet jaunty.
The light in the room is warm and golden
from the unshaded mercury lamps
all burning brightly, somehow expectant.