Aching for Passage

The first day
at the new house,
while I watered plants on the patio,
a playful wind
grabbed the door and slammed it.
Bedroom slippers on my feet,
two sets of keys and my phone
Locked out,
I couldn’t enter
the home of myself.

Second day, I was inside,
and the lock jammed.
I gazed around the new house,
in the home of myself.
Suddenly knowing
that being locked in –
all the windows barred
and no other exit—
made being locked out
seem safe.

Each of those days,
solutions emerged.
This isn’t that story.
Instead it’s a tale
of visceral unfolding.
And finding out
that either side
of a locked door
generates an anguished ache
for wide open

©Susa Silvermarie 2022

Comments are closed.