These silent sentinels, keepers of our secrets
they wait for our footsteps, the turning of a lock
You are home, they breathe as we pass through
with nary a thought to their waiting
They sniff the air for the scents we carry
The bakery again, that kind of a day?
No, not the news, love, play your music
the dancing kind, it’s been too long
There now, isn’t that better?
Will the children come again?
Their laughter tickles
Will she come along, trailing her strawberry scent?
If she knocks, will you let her in?
You really should, you know
Don’t pretend you don’t miss her
You with your dark rooms and moods
that never ends well
She’s here
Open the door, love
Trust me
Open the door, love
It’s time.
Kathy Lauren Miller 
What a beautiful, magical poem…it’s going to make me wonder what my door is thinking!
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Thank you so much for commenting and liking my little verse. It is sort of an ode to personification of the inanimate. When I see doors, I think of what goes on behind closed doors and of who has passed through them. I love old houses. I imagine the peoples’ lives, what they’ve seen and lived.
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We especially loved the doors we wandered by in Mexico and San Francisco!
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I visited your blog. Love the photos. Your poem, Present Tense, is wonderful. I wanted to comment and like but I couldn’t find the buttons to do so. I am following you. :o)
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Thank you for letting me know, it warms my heart to read that you’ve stopped by and enjoyed a read or two!
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What an insightful poem and I loved it. It says so much about friendship, family and love.
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Thank you Karen, it was fun to write. I enjoy using personification in my verses.
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Great imagery… a wonderful, creative poem.
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Thank you Iris, it’s fun to use personification, making the inanimate, animate..I love doors. I have posters from different places of doors. I always wonder what’s behind them and who lives or goes there.
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