The Closet
The closet is my refuge
a place where I escape
from all of life's intrusions
to give my thoughts some shape.
To do what I came in for
it's needful to let go,
forget whatever's pressing,
all bothers that I know.
As this may take some doing,
I close my eyes to see
what's going on inside me,
obstruction of debris!
My eyes once more now open,
I'd like to see the view,
but frosted glass prevents this
vista from the loo.
To add to my frustration,
I hear the ruddy phone
in my pocket ringing
with its persistent tone.
Although I do not answer,
I wonder who might be
wanting me this morning,
supposing that I'm free.
It feels like absolution
as I'm relieved of trash,
discharged of so much refuse
with just a gentle splash.
“Be out in forty seconds,”
my father used to call.
“Use both sides of the paper.”
– in those days crisp and small!
So much for my reflections
while I was all alone.
The time for my emergence
I can no more postpone.
Copyright © Lisle Ryder | Year Posted 2021
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