A Normal Approach to a Door
It was a normal approach to a door.
The night still, notably quiet;
The amber porch light shone on the keys.
Thus began the familiar fiddle for the one,
The one that would unlock the house;
The click of the tumbler was heard,
It seemed much louder than it should;
As if the entire neighborhood knew I was home.
Entering, my senses began to scan the familiar place.
I could smell last night’s fire, the birch…
The faint aroma of yesterday’s supper held.
The air was cool, still, dry.
I heard the creaking of the floor boards,
The slightest settling of the studs as I walked.
All was in order; the old colonial welcoming once again.
As I sat in the rocker the pondering commenced;
Another night was here, the march to dawn had begun.
What will the new day bring?
Soon it will be the exit in the twilight of morn;
It will carry with it the never extinguished hope,
The hope of a normal approach to a door…
Joseph James 11-26-11
© From 'O the Elms'
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