In the old house
meaning where I grew up
there was the swinging door
never closed in the same way
that other doors closed
neither latched nor locked
nor quite at rest.
This is the date
my son was born
my father died
and today
I think of the door
that swings both ways.
March 30, 2016 at 11:46 am
Your words about the door that swings both ways paint powerful imagery about life and death. I have similar doors in my old house and will think about them a bit more when I’m opening, closing, or trying to still them in between.
March 30, 2016 at 11:53 am
Thank you, Bonny. I do very much understand the effort to still those doors; they tend to resist.