The Closet in the Corner of my Room
Sleeping inside three oak walls and a creaky double door
Is something that hasn't glimpsed the sun
Since I first hid it from my pupils.
I've taken great care in decorating the sides of the wardrobe
With carvings of flowers and horses,
And everything else one would expect
From an old closet such as it.
I've stacked my plump balls of mismatched yarn
On the tippy top of its dusty roof,
so that when people ask me why I have such an old closet
In my new room, I can tell them it's for storage.
I've also locked the door with a little something I call
Omission and deflection, two very useful tools
I keep in the tool box under my bed,
Also not in view of any shafts of light that may trespass
Into the room through the bedroom window.
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