The Parking Spot

I know it's not a big deal,
should be minor frustration.
You needed a space, it was empty
though marked for my apartment.
You took my space. There were others,
I parked closer to my door.
But it's two nights in a row
you've used my spot. It's no big deal.
But you don't know the history,
how I owned half of a garage
and parked outside, how I tried
from time to time to claim my right
and, rebuffed, gave up but never let go
the hurt. I own the right to a covered spot
and my car's under starry sky.
Childishly I taped a note, beyond need
to have you see. No, taped all four sides,
you'll pause, peeved. Remember, though,
it's no big deal
even when it feels immense.