A New Door Poem by RIC BASTASA

i remember
this door was made
12 years ago
the day when i married you.

we chose clear lacquer
to keep its original
mahogany grain
we keep the gloss
and we were never
at loss.

there were loud slams
oh, i hate to remember
but there were also gentler closes
of this door
with all the tender intents
of not having to disturb
a single soul.

then the hinges begin to rust
and the door creaks and
screams getting louder
like the madness of the one
who fears
that love is finally gone.

the termites came
and the frames get hollow as
time pierces it
showing the emptiness
inside it as though
it was mere kind
of a seashell

the knob is finally broken
and the key to open it again
was lost

then we come back to our senses
after twelve years
the door has to be replaced
with a new one

this time white in paint
the hinges glossy copper
the knob in shining silver
and the key fits in without any sound