Thinking about a door
it's stuck on my head
as if with nails
It's inviting it's mysterious
but I keep it closed
it's a big wooden door
an exit or an entrance
either one is daunting
I close my eyes and it's there
I open them and it's still there
I hate that door
I am a window person
Oh the windows I have opened
so much pain so much joy
pure life through them
but not the door
too big too heavy
don't ask me to turn the handle
this door is meant to be closed
and so it will remain
( unless a hammer finds my hands )
