Monday, January 4, 2010

the poetry closet

(click on photo to enlarge)

i opened the door
of the closet
taking care
not to awaken
the sleeping voice
of a rusty hinge
making sure
there was nothing
too dangerous
lurking outside
waiting to
snap me up
crush me
grind me
into pulp
in the grip
of yellow teeth

my hiding place
was dark
filled with the
musty odor
of poems
too long
held inside
and the
dusty air
made it hard
for me
to breathe

through the
tiny opening
i quickly noticed
that there
seemed to be
nothing or no one
paying the
slightest attention
to that
closet door

so, with only
the slightest hesitation
i threw
the door open
letting the light
pour in
on me
and the
dusty treasures
i had guarded
for so long

then i stepped
in the most
determined way
out of that
(or had it
been a prison?)
and came
out of the closet
at last...

* * * * * * *

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