the quiet

the quiet neighbors
are up early, raking leaves.
spreading
spider webs
upon their shrubbery,
setting out the carved
pumpkin, the green witch
placard
that wobbles in the autumn
wind.
they say nothing to you.
they look down,
look away.
you've given up on hellos,
of saying
good day.
you go inside,
they try the string of lights,
they glow
orange and blink
beneath your shades.