A Door Closes

A door opens
wind fills the hall
swirling patches of lint
like tiny lace clouds
watch them dance
a parquet ballet
In the magic of a child
lint becomes fairies
their big white dresses twirl
a flash of light
bejewels each
A door closes
all magic flees
as the shadow falls
Chubby hand
grasps just one
to save her
from darkness
Thunder, the voice
of an unjust god
call to lessons
that are only pain
cannot cry
or seams may tear
Scratch of stubble
on white smooth sheet
just like a man
who is not a god
it is only the stitches
Still again
quiet
forgotten
Chubby hand opens
but there is only
dust
all magic is dead
crushed
broken

~ ~ ~

© W.R.R. 11/15/2011

About W.R.R.

Bipolar & survivor of incest/child sex abuse and adult male rape; bisexual, polyamorist, poet/writer/advocate & married father of four. View all posts by W.R.R.

Comments are disabled.