My Life as a Door
Most days ajar, inviting
with a narrow glimpse
inside where sunlight diffuses
through soft, green curtains
and the crisp, dark perfume
of hot coffee lingers
on the still kitchen air,
others transparent, sliding
out of the way on instinct
triggered by proximity
and aggression
and sometimes locked,
no light on the porch
or welcome mat to lie
at my feet
about my inclinations.
©2000 L.A. Smith.
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