Door


Door

How they close it shut
The gap between them
Inches away – then
Stretches thousands of miles

Do they know when they leave
Does it?
That the two are never to meet
again – Belongings left behind
Their bags heavy with memories

They flee with the clothes on their backs
And the blue painted door
Remains, waiting
For the children to return
And play ball on the dirt covered road
Hands embracing its rounded knob
Exchanging hellos and smiles

And the door doesn’t know
When or why its horizon changed
From a tree lined street
To piles of rubble and debris
Waiting
For the door to knock
And children to come in

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