A Poem: Closing Doors

Photo by runnyrem on Unsplash

Have to admit that I am running low on material just sitting around as far as short stories/poetry to show here. Mainly it's older stuff that I might be interested in publishing someday - my main focus has been novels.

Anyway, read this if you want and see what you think.

Closing Doors

Down the grey hall, fluorescents

flickering more and more as the clock hands

drag

I walk past the doors.

Some are French, others

industrial with piston handles,

others are American Revival

(when is that coming?)

Years back, I remember

that all of the doors were open,

and you were able to walk in.

It wasn’t quite as easy to walk in

some of the doors, however.

There were doors that led to long

flights of staircases, or

balance-beam narrow bridges,

for instance.

Some of the doors had come from bank vaults,

so it took my shoulder and my bulk

to get it open.

Sometimes I ducked my head behind the door

and found empty desks or rows of kids playing all board games I’d gotten tired of when I was 5, so I di…