The Neighbor

Due to the length of the poem I will say only, that it is a poem of intrigue and human nature.

I do hope you will read it with some thought.

Make Monday Masterful,


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The daily papers had piled up,

and junk mail stuffed the box,

and the neighbors had not seen him,

on their nightly walks.

So, when the police came that morning,

and asked how long it’s been,

since anyone had seen him,

no one could remember when.

He didn’t have a family,

not that any of them knew,

for not one, came to visit,

that for sure, was true.

Keeping always to himself,

no, never did he speak,

and acquaintance with the neighbors,

did not seek.


 For two or three years he’d been there,

came in the summer most had thought,

and when he arrived that evening,

no one knew the house was bought.

A moving van pulled up one day,

and a new neighbor, had they all.

As to the man’s appearance,

some say short, and some say tall,

some say that he’s an old man,

some say he’s middle-aged.

Some thought his name was Parker,

some sure, that it was Paige.

The neighbors on the left of him,

thought his hair was white,

though grayish, said the neighbor,

who lived there on the right.


 And as the police asked their questions,

 curiosity did abound,

and speculation, running rampant,

as to what they may have found.

But, all the guessing was put to rest,

when the coroner‘s truck arrived,

then there was no doubt about it,

someone in that house had died.

Then the arrival of those black vans,

with their darkly tinted glass,

re-sparked the neighbor’s interest,

like a flame set to the gas.

Some thought that they were FBI,

some said the CIA,

but, who they were, would matter less,

than the corpse they took away.


 The coroner had come and gone,

but the black vans stayed behind,

and the people that they carried,

moved as by design.

Some dressed in workman’s coveralls,

rubber gloves, and face masks too,

others dressed in suit and tie,

checked everything in view.

Inside the house and all around,

they inspected every space,

and then when, they were finished,

they left not a single trace,

of the man who used to live there,

and just whom he might have been.

Who were they, in those black vans,

and might they come again?


 Only just a few days passed,

when the rumors took full flight.

Someone had heard from someone,

who swore that they were right,

 that their former neighbor,

had connections to the mob,

and to beat and maim or kill,

used to be his full-time job.

But, when he was arrested,

and faced with life in jail,

they offered him immunity,

if in court, he’d tell his tale.

And they’d keep him safe, somewhere,

right after he testified.

But, still left, the bigger question,

how had their neighbor died?


 Jack Downing

Nov. 2011

Copyright© Jack Downing, aka Jake All rights reserved. Contents may not be reprinted or disseminated in any manner without the expressed written consent of the author. JRD 4/2/12


About poemsandponderings

Hearth and Health are wonderful things and if you're without either such sorrow that brings So I cannot express enough thanks to my Lord and to my family and friends for the support you afford! ~Jack Downing~
This entry was posted in Americana, demise, environment, illegal, men, Right to remain silent, stranger, U.S. Government, undocumented, violence, women and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to The Neighbor

  1. Beth Ann says:

    What a great story!!! A great Monday read!! Thanks for sharing!!!

  2. I thoroughly enjoyed it and the length didn’t told the story in a very clever way,

  3. Oooo… mysterious! I like this one! 🙂

    • Thank you Ariadne, the reaction turned outto be much more favorablethan I expected. It was one of those piecesthatI didn’t know where it was going until I finished writing it. I guess it turned out okay..Thanks again as always.


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