At first I thought it was a woman, on
High heels, tripping down the shiny
Lino floor, in the hall. No, steps too
Firm, must be a soldier, a lone army
Marching. The martial steps marched
Passed my door, didn’t stop, nothing
To gain except a rubber plant and a few
Carrots on the window sill! Then my
Own heartbeat joined the force and
I was left with an echo, a fear of wars
To come.