Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Who Opened My Door?

Curly and half awake,

considering thought,

but wondering what to wonder.

Tuning in

to harps and violins

bright and tinkling sounds

chased by thrumming tambourines

and lasting drums.

Knocking sounds...

that knock does not belong.

knock once,

knock twice.

Beginning to listen,

rising from a numbing crouch.

Paying heed,

listening hard,

for that which is separate.

Climbing banks of carpet,

reaching the landing.

Swamped in the light that falls from windows,

and peering out to see who might be

lurking at the front entry.

A cursory glance would be enough.

To look for who is calling.

Upon looking, the space is empty.

Except for distant screams of children at play,

the street is quiet.

Breathing easy,

no longer wary,

noticing the greenery visibly thirsting.

Reassured and relieved,

with a new task at hand.

Turning contentedly,

on route to aide the leafy life,

only to be stopped short.

to see the the Back door,

Hanging open...

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