On the ground floor
of this ultramodern
tower block
in the dead
middle
of the night
the lift doors
open, with a
clang.
Nobody enters,
and nobody
comes out.
In the dead
middle
of the night
the lift doors
close with a clang,
and the lift begins
to move
slowly
up…
with nobody in it,
nobody but
the ghost of a girl
who lived here once
on the thirteenth floor of
this ultramodern tower block.
One day, she went to play
in an old part of town,
and never came back.
She said she was just
going to the corner shop,
but she never came home.
Now her ghost
keeps pressing
in the dead
middle of the night
the button
for the thirteenth floor.
But when the door
opens with a clang
she cannot step out.
She gazes longingly
at the familiar landing,
but only for a moment…
then the lift doors
clang in her face
and her tears
silently flow
as the lift
in the dead
middle
of the night
so soft and slow
carries her down again
down below
far, far below
the ground
floor, where nobody
waits for the haunted lift
Sometimes
on the thirteenth floor
her mother and father
with her photo
beside their bed
wake up
in the dead
middle of the night, and hear
the mysterious clanging
of closing lift doors,
and wonder
who it could be
in the dead
middle
of the night
using the lift
at such
an unearthly hour.
In this ultramodern
tower block
there is no thirteenth floor.
James Kirkup