A Poem: Closing Doors
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…
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