Lover's Doorways ©
Some doorways are old, and worn.
Ancient cracks run down them in sorrowful lines,
Broken hinges tell tales of angry exits,
Marred paint whispers of pattering rain storms,
And children's dirty finger-marks tell of childhoods
Lived chaotically within the doorways,
And outside, where the lawn is patchy and yellow.
These kinds of doorways have much to tell.
They are the kind that you stand at for awhile,
Deciding whether to knock, or ring the bell,
If the bell works; if the knock can be heard . . .
Or better yet, to simply walk away.
Other doorways are new, shiny and glittering,
Iridescent paint gleaming with the rays of sun,
With large door knobs of the finest metals,
Inviting you to come in, to see, to experience what is behind-
Some doorways are love-stained;
They carry heavy scents of jasmine and sandalwood,
And if you look closely you can see faces in the wooden frames,
Staring at you like spirits who have claimed their territories,
Hoping to entangl