It’s funny how we attach ourselves
The things we see every day
The normal… the regular objects
Like our door… the side door… the door for family
The casual traveler will not see her scars
The scratches from family cats…
Wanting in or wanting out
After all, it’s just a door
There are patched holes in her frame
Putty and caulk are her jewelry
Paint with layers of stories and tales
She keeps us safe and warm and dry
The locks have changed
The knobs and keys have changed
The old hinges and screws have changed…
After all, it’s just a door
The children have left her open
We have locked her by mistake
She has withstood the slamming
And we know the click of the gentle shut
Rust has crept into her edges
The strain of time is all around her
And yet she still finds her purpose
After all, it’s just a door
Today she will leave us and look upon the new
She has shadowed visitors that we have lost to time
She will be forgotten… perhaps
After all, she’s just a door
Shannon R Killman
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