the door

 

if you would care to raise your head,
just for a moment,
you will see a door showly shutting
in the breeze that has got up.
If you leave that book you are reading
and leap from your chair
you will find there’s just enough room
for you to squeeze through
before the door closes.
(….. For yes, there’s still room for you,
even after all this,
there’s still room for you).

the breeze did not turn to a wind,
the howling, crying wind there might have been,
for I did not want to disturb you again
as you sat there in the sun,
reading your book.
But the door continued to slowly close,
and you did not raise your head,
nor even notice when the door
finally clicked
shut.

if you would care to raise your head,
just for a moment,
you will see that beneath the closed door
there is a pool,
the mark of bitter-sweet tears.
Do not bother to get up from your chair ,
nor leave your book,
but stay there in the sun
and let the tears evaporate.
Do not raise your head and think the door
may swing open,
for it is too late,
too late.

(Andy)