DEAR ANNE

Dear downstairs Anne
This fifth of Jan,

The noise you hear of nighttime tromping
Is not a herd of horses clomping,

Just a household walking around
Trying hard to not make a sound.

And when you text us in the morn
It tends to raise in us some scorn

Because we try so hard for you
But feel there's nothing we can do.

For one, the fire must keep going
Or we'll feel like it's been snowing;

For two, we adults need bathroom breaks
That must to you sound like earthquakes;

For three, these floors are not well-tended
If you expect quiet, they must be mended;

For four, we've set rugs to dampen the clatter
When our feet are forced to make pitter-patter;

For five, we're teaching fervently
Our kids to go to bed early.

Still life happens even at night-
I cannot see an end in sight-

And none of us ever agreed to confine
All activities to the time before nine;

We told you we would try our best
Even though it's a challenging test

On which we think most would agree
We have performed admirably

(If you could see the things we do
We're sure you would agree it's true).

Empathy is what we ask of you-
You have your needs, we have ours too.

Please note: if our level had the same insulation
As yours we wouldn't be having this conversation,

But if you walked around up here at night,
And we complained you'd say it's your right.

We hope you appreciate that we took the time
To put our hearts and thoughts in rhyme.

Much love,
The people of
The floor above