Doors are made

I tried out a triquain for the OctPoWriMo prompt today. This is a triquain swirl, the double triquain with a sort of erased coda.

 

Doors are made,

not grown from the rich earth,

they keep out and keep in, their function

swinging with the seasons, drifting leaves, bold sun bolts.

I paint a door in blue

of the sky

inviting birds to fly,

faces to look up and wonder what lies

beyond. I make no judgement except on those who

clip the wings of beauty,

flying birds.

 

In blue of the sky, flying birds.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

17 thoughts on “Doors are made”

    1. I wasn’t quite certain what I was going to say when this one started out. I took the door as a metaphor for shield or barrier. Mine would be wide open…except for a select few.

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