Visiting the relatives …

They come on Saturdays, Sundays and the holiday Mondays.
To meet and greet the older relatives,
In the apartment building by the seashore.

Bring treats. Of flowers, bunches or pots; offspring in tow.
Yelling in the covered parking lot, to make the voices echo and shout floating up like disembodied banshee ghosts aglow.

Arriving in Nissans, Toyotas, Hyundai and the odd Ford.
SUV sparkly, shiny bright, plastic bodywork and glass
Horns tooting, as they lock the car door.

Using the intercom at the front door.
Announcing their arrival and the resulting buzz
Floats up behind, the garage shouts and yells.

The front door clangs behind the visitors, with automatic closing.
To spend an hour or two
With the old folks.

The resident’s cars, lay idle in the lot
sedentary in and of the makes.
BMW, Audi, Chevrolet, Pontiac or Ford

Departure, is procedure in reverse
Culminating in engines, bursting awake
Then the TOOT to unseen residential life, as they leave. Duty complete

Slowly the apartments, one bedroom, two & three,
townhouses at the sides,
Simmer’s down to tranquility.

Stillness broken only by the siren sound, of emergency vehicle.
hospital next door …


7 thoughts on “Visiting the relatives …”

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