What lives behind that ornate door
that's carved of snakes and vines?
I see them writhe and feel a shift
in its symbols and signs.
Ominous [Common Meter]
1

What mysteries lie behind
That old green wooden door:
Carved elaborately
In bygone days?
On a street that features only sights
Both newer and more decrepit,
It stands out as a grand entrance
That begs something special
Beyond.
I’d hate to think it’s just
Old paint cans —
Half empty and congealed
Beyond usefulness.
I doubt it’s a brothel or speakeasy —
Too silent…
But a vault of lost masterpieces,
Inhabited by a hairy-legged spider,
Might not be too much to ask.
I love a little door to nowhere, with no apparent reason to be. Not under a sign or in the square, but in a privy wall or thick tree. Somewhere one would least expect a door. Somewhere that begs the question: "Where to?" A place for mean rogues, scamps and whores? A hideaway that offers no clue. It would probably just disappoint: to learn the sanctum's private intrigues. Not some tough, sleazy speakeasy joint, or bohemian savants' league. And so, I never, ever knock, but let the story form in my mind - a tale to titillate and shock, one that leaves no misanthrope behind.
I dreamt the door looked out upon treetops and I could walk out on blue sky and cloud and see the world as would a tall cyclops. I dreamt the door looked out upon treetops, but in my dream I plunged into the copse. Sky walking proved more dream than was allowed. I dreamt the door looked out upon treetops, but could I walk out to blue sky and cloud?