In the office at the weekend

The wheelie chairs look lighter,
the floor looks bored.
The keyboards have stopped gossiping
and the motion-sensor lights
tutted when they came on.
I’ve never thought about whether or not
a room enjoys us being inside it.
The plants seem pleased to see me,
a familiar face, until I explain to them
that I will not water them because I don’t know
when they were last watered
and they tell me that they are plastic.

© Carl Burkitt 2023

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