What the Door Opens On


    This room
    These bare metal shelves
    The struts that brace them
    Two gritty chairs
    Tears in loose papers curling
    On the sunboiled desk.

Oh it is perfectly true that these walls enclose
All the paraphernalia of idleness and panic
Waiting for use. But something-some film or absence-
Is more, is heavier, than what the door opens on.

    As from the ocean
    The casual rain drifted inward
    Scribbling the streets,
    She thought of copperheads
    Fixing blue venom in quick nerves.
    She thought of tanagers, and
    Their crimson wings glittered at her wrists.
    She thought clearly of snowflakes forever
    Falling into the soundless misery of night.

 

BACK        NEXT