It's Still Life

The Sunny Side of the Door

I’ve never dreamt of eating dusty bread,
nor have I watched a field of red wheat grow.

I’ve never wanted to be a man,
even though I think women are beautiful.

I’ve watched February snow as it melts
into the black sound of rushing water.

I’ve heard blackbirds sing,
and rabbits scream,
and foxes cry all night.

And soon Whitman’s lilacs will bloom again
on the sunny side of my door.

Written for Miz Quickly’s Day 3 prompt: Doors.  Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2024.