My Doors

May 3, 2020 | Poetry

Photo by Rene Böhmer on Unsplash

Or, strange shadows

Walnut and brass protect this homely space
From streets beyond, those others and events,
But the stranger still presents unwelcome face,
Reminding me of wages yet unspent.

Oak and glass afford a garden view
Where this child played ‘neath parent’s shaping eye,
And learned love’s debt to right behaviour’s cue.
Make them proud, with no disturbing cry.

Pine panels seal the stairs that lead below,
Where lessons frozen long still filter light.
Unlived, neglected feelings stealthy go,
Here to help but conjuring a fright.

These shadows drape o’er portals, asking me
To grant attention’s love and set them free.

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