Door Ajar, Open House
I went to my son’s open house last night
Hand in hand to meet my ex, his mother
His classroom was adorned with delight
Doting parents greeted each other
I held on to my son clinging with fright
I listened to his poetry so purely innocent
He wrote of birds, the sun, and his soul
He wrote with such lightness only dreamt
I felt jealous of his careless control
Despite my inadequacy, I stayed present
We moved next to the art show
It bespoke the easy colors in children
I felt my art twisted by age overgrown
I wished I held such a childish pen
In the garden tall sunflowers shone
Walking back to our cars together
He said I was easier with my ex
His innocent words light as a feather
I felt the years of hurt perplexed
I superior thinking I was unbothered
We drove home, the two of us
Back to the safety of our lair
The door closed to his open house
My windows opened letting out despair
He left the door ajar acting sus
My morning joy has left for school
The door to my innocence closes
The twistedness in me begins to recoil
Leave the door ajar, let in the roses
Let the easy breeze find no spoils
Someday my door will open a house
Someday I will write about birds and sun
Perhaps then poetry will be renounced
Then I will become poetry undone
This home will be poetry pronounced
Copyright © Triny Xiang | Year Posted 2023
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