Houses are waiting for me in this street.

Windows are eyes, that watch me, quietly.

A woman and a man on soundless feet

Step from house to taxi, closed mystery

To mystery. The next tall girl I meet

Coming around that corner will be she -

But no - well, then, the next. How will we greet,

Good morning" or - the way it used to be?

Over my shoulder than I saw a man

Look over his. If only I could see

Behind these doors, all closed. Maybe I can

By staring hard. The windows stare at me.

From number ten to seventy we ran

One night. That's her door, number seventy-three.