‘Can I help you?’ asked the man
Setting his half moon specs to rights;
Peering up and down the street
But there was no one in his sights:
He’d heard the knocker pounding clear
‘Is anybody there?’ he said.
But clearly there was no one there
He shrugged, bemused, and scratched his head
A breath of wind brushed past his face
And flotsam fluttered by the drain
The night lay damp on window ledge
While moonlight shimmered on the pane
He turned to wander back inside
A single thought besieged his mind,
Could it be? He dared not hope
A promise kept, t’which he was blind?
He closed the door against the night
A shiver shook him to the core
He’d settled in his lonely chair
When he heard that pounding beat once more
Again, he rose to peer outside
But all he saw were rustling trees
‘Hello!’ he cried ‘For whom do you seek?
Should I come forth on bended knees?’
But ‘neath the starred and leafy sky
No utterance or response occurred
Within his ear the silence roared
Within his heart no sound was heard
The man resumed his lonely place
Amid the dust and cobwebs dense
His ears turned deaf to iron on stone
His heart grown numb to recompense.
As a stand alone poem, it is what ever you want it to be.
It is also however a relevant accolade to...
The Listeners by Walter de la Mare - http://www.bartleby.com/103/86.html