WAY THROUGH Poem by Ruth Lasters

Doors too should start paying
their way. To record strictly how often they are opened-shut each week, how
many times we charged through and back. To see if
they're doorworthy and if not: seal them shut. Till it is said

a hundred times: ‘I could have sworn that only yesterday' -
Then, it would be reopened, you'd see advertising signs
everywhere saying Way Through! Door! and on one side of the door

a field of fake poppies would be planted and on the other a
plastic bench on which sat a woman, a man that
- I wished in vain - only looked like
us. Us with a margin of error.