Poem : Forgotten Old Doors
Old building on the Street some think it’s beautiful, others, just drab.
Many tread these thresholds, worn like tattered lace.
old address update in a compelling space.
Green’s a fitting color for a door, so is white.
A wisp of green in the morning light.
Kernels of romance in dilapidation, hint at the intent of this creation.
How many souls passed through this door? Closed for good or will there be more?
Memories of work, hope and laughter, dreams and wishes that bathed the rafters.
Evocative of a simpler time.
Speedy technologies permeate mine.
A rusty spigot, red weathered board. How long has this old place been ignored?
Cooler dressed in rust, corrugated tin, small dab of spring vegetation sneaks in.
And at the end of yesterday, memories within.