A Sealed Door
Foot on gas pedal, tailing
ghosts in darkest hour of night,
I find a road to the past,
we once called home. I knock,
but your love is a sealed door
with broken knob. Even if
I could pry it off its hinges,
enter the hollow space inside,
silence would be my prize,
conspicuous like a tarnished trophy
thick with cobwebs on the mantle.
Since you’ve left, I hibernate
through my days, a bear
that has perished before spring.
I try to forget your countless smiles.
Distinct colors in blushing cheeks
of a smitten morning sun fade
away as she rises over blue waves
in your eyes. Most of all, I try
to forget the unique sound of your sigh,
your contagious laughter, and the way
your voice would bounce off me
like an excited child when
you said, I love you.
written 3/30/17 for Doors Contest
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2017
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