For you are not there
All the doors have been taken off
Better to hear the footprint echoes of you walking away
The doors are spiked into the pathway leading up to the house steps
Better to pass all those doors and enter mine
The doorknobs have all turned rusty with the rain
They would not open for you anyway
You can stand on my front steps and see right into my dark house
Curtains open and windows cleaned only an hour ago
It's a beautiful summer day outside
Darkness reigns inside
A black hole letting nothing bright escape
But please come in
Things have changed since you last visited
I removed all obstacles and cannot shut you out
There is freedom inside
Cavernous and deep-breath'd freedom
I implore you to revisit those old rooms
One in particular
Up the stairs to the left
First doorway on your left
The biggest room with the tiniest closet
I'm waiting for you there
I will hear if you call hello
Call hello to me
Call to me
Hello
Again
Author Bio:
Jennifer Erin Marston is a single mother of a twelve year old son living in Memphis, Tennessee. She survived four years at The University of Memphis and lives for the galleries of Memphis openings. She attends spoken word poetry readings at Crosstown Arts with her son. She brings friends to gallery openings who have never gone before. She has filled her bedroom with paintings of an abstract nature and fills her drawers with poems about the human condition.