Some doors are golden oak
shine like melted honey
but also locked and foreboding
there are metal ones also
cool to the touch
futuristic and impenetrable
Some doors are inset
with tiny window panes
riding on hinges
like 1930's gangsters
A few doors
are flung open
swishing in fresh air
and visitors both welcome
and not
White doors end up
dinged with messy hand prints
from people
pushing and clawing
their way in and out
Ah, but the door in the mists
framed with a graceful arc
a jeweled curtain
veiling the mystery
beckons us
nothing concrete there
between you
and the other side
About the Creator
Lana Broussard
Lana Broussard writes primarily under the pen name, L.T. Garvin. She writes fiction, poetry, essays, and humor. She is the author of Confessions of a 4th Grade Athlete, Animals Galore, The Snjords, and Dancing with the Sandman.
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It Only Took One Minute.......
It only took a minute. I was sitting at the computer in my office when the phone rang. I picked up the receiver and then laid it down my desk as I went to find the student who the call was for. Within seconds I was back at my desk, ready to resume typing, when I heard the student yelling obscenities at me for listening in to his call through the handset that was still lying on the desk. Sick and tired of the lies he was spewing, I was up running down the hall, ready to kill him. By the time I reached him, I had calmed enough not to hurt him, but as I turned back towards my room, I knew that I couldn’t go on like this any longer. The decision was clear. I had to leave.
By Gail Wylie6 days ago in Motivation
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