A Warm Doorway


As children in the
countryside, the edge
of urban and other, the slice
between, we walked
into the night, unafraid
firefly’s or fairy’s…the
same and
feeling the quiet coolness
the darkness, the
deep green
freshness of
living trees, grasses…we
absorbed the night,
a friend, an
excitement of being
enveloped in muted
living, unwatched
silence…we walked
into the night
unafraid but time passes
gains momentum, us falling
downhill like gravity
speeds up like sinking
is supposed and
growing older is
inevitable and we live
in cities—in time worn
boxes filled with today
—as we watch
tomorrow stumble
down the cold street
toward us, looking
for a warm
doorway…a minutes rest
but we send it back,
back out into
the night…a darkness
we cannot feel,
cannot absorb it’s quiet,
its muted living silence
that once excited, that
once breathed in our mouths
and we are afraid
to follow.

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