Friday, July 1, 2011

the singing door.

As the hot wind blows,
the door creaks.
Much too loud,
I fear it will wake
the girls from their sleep.

as its eerie sound
cracks open my night.
I lay in bed with my eyes open,
hazily dreaming that you will
walk through the door
and the last ten years have been nothing
but a rip in time.
A lost and lonely dimension.

The cat does not stir anymore.
As she hums in her sleep
at the foot of my bed.
She no longer hears the door sigh,
or my breath shallow, deep and raw
that follows soon after.

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