Sarah Neumann

Door

I pressed my ear to the door,
Solid wood firm against my cheek.
This was the place I had sought,
The home I hadn’t known I wanted.

Through the wall I could hear you talking,
Laughing, crying.
I could hear everything
That was tumbling out of your mouths.

I balanced on the threshold
As the wind battered my back.
Icy whips laced with spite
Tried to wrench me from my station.

Inside you sat in a circle on the soft carpet,
Tucked close like birds in their nest.
Murmurings sweet with your days and weeks
Slipped their way through the mail slot.

I could feel the warm draft
Seeping out from the room.
My fingers finally found the brassy knocker
And labored to lift it.

As the door swung open on its gleaming hinges,
The light blinded me, for a moment.
Then six hands reached for my arm,
And took my heavy coat from me.




[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2013 EDITION]


Copyright © 2002-2011 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose © 2002-2011 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission.