The Listeners (Poetry)

“Is there anybody there?” said the customer
knocking at the old office door
“I’ve not heard anyone answer
and I’ve knocked three times before.”

But the silence hung unbroken —
not a whisper in reply
while the customer stood waiting and
the walls absorbed his cry.

There he lingered, half-expecting
that someone soon would come
yet the hallway stayed quite empty
and he saw or heard no one.

So he gathered up his courage
and rapped harder still — as though
he’d guessed someone was listening
sure eventually he’d go.

He could almost feel them breathing
so he raised his voice again —
“I’m not happy with the service
let me in and I’ll explain ...”

Well, the silence lengthened further
pins now dropping by the score
but still nobody opened up
that stout unyielding door.

“I wonder” mused the customer
inclined to try once more
“Could someone kindly tell me if
COMPLAINTS is on this floor?”

No response to all his sighing
as the afternoon wore on
then, at last, departing footsteps ...
and relief once he was gone.