Poem to Forgotten Old Doors

Old building on East Street near Buzz’s stinky crab. Some think it’s beautiful, others, just drab.

Many tread these thresholds, worn like tattered lace.

Rude address update in a compelling space.

Green’s a fitting color for a door, so is white.

A wisp of green grass in the morning light.

Kernels of romance in dilapidation, hint at the intent of this creation.

How many souls passed through this door? Closed for good or will there be more?

Echos of enterprise, hope and laughter, dreams and wishes that bathed the rafters.

Evocative of a  simpler time.

Speedy technologies permeate mine.

A rusty spigot, green weathered board. How long has this old place been ignored?

Cooler dressed in rust, corrigated tin, small dab of spring vegetation sneaks in.

And at the end of yesterday’s trail, a small piece of squash sat on a rail.

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2 Responses to “Poem to Forgotten Old Doors”

  1. Love the poem and the photos. Thank you.

  2. Thanks for reading Doni G.

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