The Hallway

The Hallway

No one lingers in the hallway.
Each apartment door attracts its owner.

Footsteps, rain rejected from bags
and umbrellas. Even the clanging of keys

as a resident fights to get inside
his home. The hallway's carpet absorbs all sound.

The wallpaper turns the volume down,
an ode to taupe, to timidity.

Despite the decor, the hallway is not
a room. This place is only for passing through,

not for settling or sitting.
Reclining is unwise. In leaving,

all residents decide: stairwell
or elevator. Once in the vivid light

of the outside world, the hallway hardly
seems real, its neutrality fading like fog.