Antique Doors

I salvaged a set of antique doors
that were piled in a yard
close by the ocean
with other detritus
from a torn-down house.

Hoping the owner would let me take them,
I talked with him
and listened to his stories
about who had passed through them,
what rooms they had separated.

It isn’t easy to find ones just so,
with the hardware still intact.

Perhaps if I hold on to them,
I thought,
and shape them here or there,
they’ll fill up gaps —
shut out the draft from the
old ice-box pantry,
dampen the kitchen noise that drifts
so easily up the stairs
when our children are sleeping.

But I wonder
if I will have time to use them,
or if someday
someone will come
and collect them from me.

13 thoughts on “Antique Doors

  1. Aarthi

    real, simple and real. every word uttered makes perfect sense and depicts what is perfectly your life, your ideas and frames of reference… i have never read such pure and honest poems.. thanks for sharing your wisdom.. i have a lot to learn from you and the kind of glimpses your works offer πŸ™‚

    1. bussokuseki Post author

      Thanks so much for reading and for taking the time to comment. I’ve been having trouble writing all week…and today, in the midst of the day, there it was…

      1. WB

        You’re very welcome. I will always read, and comment on what I read, it is only ethical to do so, when somebody’s work rightfully deserves it.

  2. bg

    Most excellent. Thank you for sharing. My grandmother’s house had doors with knobs like those in the picture. I wish that I had some of them.


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