Open Doors -

Little by little I say goodbye
just as slow I say hello
gradually changing
gently rearranging
my life,
to a quiet room
with a ticking clock
and a threadworn armchair
fit for a lady of considerable age
to sit in silence there
in shafts of light
from a courtyard garden
stretching an impression
of living art upon my floor
while a whispering breeze
touches my hand
to make me aware of the open door
with no words left unspoken
no lovers left to bind
just the flowers of the spring
in the autumn of my mind
when the bees speak easy
of summers yet to come
and peaceful go the memories of many seasons gone
then I shall close my eyes
and listen for the blackbird there
and take the open door into the cool night air.