Open Door - March 30 2025

 

Open Door

March 30 2025

The hinges squeak

like an injured chick

that’s fallen from its nest.

Beautiful hinges

in vintage brass

I haven’t the heart to replace.

When left partly closed

the door swings open

the moment I turn my back;

could the floor be tilted

the wall askew?

But when it does fully shut

it’s hard to budge.

Is the frame warped

the door uneven?

Or is it simple bloody mindedness?

Like a child who loves to tease,

and either mischievous or bored

doesn’t know when to stop.

Anyway, I prefer it open.

Especially when there’s wind,

rocking back and forth

and letting fresh air in;

or at least until the seesaw screech

of metal on metal

gets to me.

There is no fixing an old house

bit by bit.

Either tear it down to studs

or learn to live with it,

the imperfections

that give it character,

the charming touches

no one thinks of nowadays.

But it all matches, doesn’t it?

The house, and its inhabitant

who is also old, imperfect, and slightly warped.

Whose moving parts

are rapidly rusting.

Who could use a little freshening up.

And who needs help

getting him unstuck

from his curmudgeonly ways;

someone to lean in

with a sturdy shoulder

against his tightly closed door.