Kris Bigalk demonstrates how potent one simple metaphor can be.
—
Doors
He sends me photographs of doors each day.
Today’s was cerulean, chipping, with a cast iron grate
in front of a square window at eye level. He sends
me these doors to remind me how long I’ve stood
in this doorless courtyard, where fragrant lilies
and pear trees have browned and crumpled, the wind
settling cold into my bones.
Today’s door is the same color as the sky that summer.
I wish he would send a photo of a door ajar, or flung open –
a door that invites, keeps its promises.
***
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Photo by Harini Calamur /Flickr