Rome. Arch of Janus in the Foro Boario. Facade towards the Tevere river. Through the arch, the porch of the church of Saint George in Velabro is seen. By No machine-readable author provided. MM assumed (based on copyright claims). [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Who could imagine that a locked, white-paneled double-door would offer freedom? I tremble before it, a pubescent boy home from 7th grade. I place my key in the keyhole, turn the lock, open the door. Any moment I’ll see Mom. Her glassy eye and lazy sneer will greet me. Her slurred voice will confirm the sinking feeling that arose the moment these doors came into view. Who knew opening the doors to home would enslave?
sudden cold
echo of the thump
of doors closing
Who could imagine that an open front door would enslave? I walk through it to the courtyard beyond. Mira approaches from the pathway between condo buildings. She looks startled as she sees me. I offer her my overdue apology. She wanted help with our newborn son; I wanted down-time from work, to spend in a rocking chair and a new novel. We make up for not the first, and certainly not the last, time, and return home. Who knew closing a door to home would liberate?
full moon
soft click of a deadbolt
scarcely heard
for Poets United–midweek motif (January 3, 2018)–doorway(s)
UPDATE: for dVerse Poets’ Tuesday Poetics (June 26, 2018) — Opposites Attract, Or Do They? (pubtended by lillian)
Frank J. Tassone 
Leave a comment