Get Your Premium Membership

The Threshold

My door is made of solid bronze but doesn’t have a lock Patina’d with the stain of blood from all the battles fought It swings upon a rusted hinge and creaks when open wide To welcome back the future-past the present safe inside (Bryn Mawr Pennsylvania: August, 2020)

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Reflection on the Important Things