Door ii

A way in, a way out. Sometimes the way through in spite of the deadbolt.   There was the time the glass shattered as the wife was thrown against it. The infant, still so much a part of her flesh — shielded in her arms. The soft swirl of hair on his fontanel  like the […]

Door i

I dreamed a door that wouldn’t close — loose hinges, slippery lock, misaligned. Backed up against it, wedged a foot to hold it. Slammed shut, it slivered open and always something on the other side to keep out, or let in.   The last door by which my father left; a slice of apple pie, […]