There once was a woman
who entered the doorway
of middle age,
stood in the doorway
quite a while, observing,
as certain people always do
before they enter
a roomful of people.
She watched the groups
of eager party-goers
mingling and chatting,
observed those who
stood on the edges,
like her,
watching.
That first tentative step
into the room
is one of the hardest.
You leave a bit of yourself behind
when you walk in that doorway,
lose some thread of the story.
Turn and look back
through the open door,
and you can watch it
slipping away on the wind
like a strand of spider web.
She took that deep breath
everyone is always telling you to take,
picked up her courage
and walked right in,
a smile on her face.
It wasn’t until
she heard the door close
that a silver sparkle
caught the corner of her eye
and she saw that missing thread
twining and twisting
through the new air
for her to take up again.
Prompt
This one comes from my friend Katharine Jennings: “On the morning of the 15th look west, south, east and north the first thing you see/feel in each direction incorporate into a poem.” I can’t wait until morning!
Gratitude List:
1. My “Little Room” that was stacked full of clutter has been cleaned and tidied and readied for use. Good movement of energy once again.
2. Four boxes/bags of fabrics and shoes and books and clutter are leaving the house.
3. Growing older
4. Shadows and reflections
5. The webs that connect us all
May we walk in beauty.
Mockingbird Chronicles 