The Door Left Open

You left the door open, a cool breeze bit my skin,

Snow flurries covered the entrance, white and sore

I knew no one was coming back again.

After months of silence, thaw began within,

Frozen panels dripping, puddles on the floor.

You left the door open, a cool breeze bit my skin.

By six months, watercolor poppies, hummingbirds’ din,

Ribbons of sun spilled through the open door.

I knew no one was coming back again.

I waited, and waited, through winter, summer, spring,

Then fall reminded me of what I waited for.

You left the door open, a cool breeze bit my skin.

The risk was too great, another year grown thin,

Starless nights pressing, harsher than before.

I knew no one was coming back again.

So I gathered my will, though weary, worn within,

And closed it at last, though my heart was sore.

You left the door open, a cool breeze bit my skin,

I knew no one was coming back again.