THE DOOR

It seemed as if a door came calling,

in a voice as old as carols,

telling lies as old as candles,

in words that were all about

some afternoons, lost on a child,

that could have been simple but

were lost, when I was just a child.

There was a day and then a dream

that I went through, and a cathedral

whose tall choir prayed

a singing message through the nave

until I heard a forest there

(though far outside, the trees were bare)