A curious construction

has appeared – perhaps
some drop-off from IKEA? –
in the gravelled space behind the wall
too small to call a garden.

Perhaps it is
a pulpit for preaching
to commuters walking past?
a platform for waving
to the passing cars?

It can’t – can it? – be the start
of outsourced gallows?
Could that be allowed?
Much better the first landing
for a stairway to the stars.