by Jo Halliday
The doorlight makes a cry into the night. The gaping hole of light is man's warmth, is man's habitation. It is man's death.
Posted on 01/13/2014
Copyright © 2021 Jo Halliday
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 01/14/14 at 06:08 PM|
I have missed your work. This brief piece opens another of your very thoughtful doors. Thanks for this.
|Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 01/14/14 at 10:46 PM|
Image sharp. Doorlight maybe symbol for life. Perhaps brevity of life suggested as well.
|Posted by Kris Mara on 04/06/15 at 11:48 PM|
so profound -- such efficiency and such power all at once...gorgeous to read for your way with words here...