Home   Home

door poem

by Betania Tesch

During the secrethour,
softened blue hazes
filled with beauty
unravel themselves and slide
through the keyholes
of the doors between people,
threading in and out,
transforming those locked
storage closet spaces
in every person
and pulling the deadbolt open.
The entrances and exits
become blurred for just
a moment or two
while mouths connect
and skin fuses together
and breathing is millions
of lungs strung together
by the common bond of doorknobs
no longer useful for
opening or closing
the now-obsolete doors of isolation.

07/29/2002

Posted on 07/29/2002
Copyright © 2024 Betania Tesch

Return to the Previous Page
 

pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online
All works Copyright © 2024 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)