Such a beautiful, intricately carved wooden door with a window into the out!
Unlocked, but I find myself unable to leave.
Is it what is out there, or in here, that keeps me from leaving?
I reach for the simple brass door knob to exit, but I hesitate, and my hand once again drops to my side.
Sorrow’s sour milk, forksful of pungle and hiss,
I shore up the rickety side of your soul
I lift my hand to open the door
And out pours milk and honey
The universe provides,
if we only ask as we seek,
and remain open to its wonders,
as one who is part of the whole.
Yet I feel so half-hearted,
drawn and quartered…
if my soul must be so truly divided
as I sing eighth notes, I will now drink a fifth!
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Judy Weatherbee is an improviser, photographer and poet for the joy of it, physical therapist in the real world
Jennifer Walker Frisinger is a writer of short fiction and corporate story teller
Debbie Miller is a Brooklyn, New York writer who writes magazine articles, plays, humor, and monologues.Visit my website at www.DebbieLMiller.com.
Miriam Lerner is a sign language interpreter, currently working from home, trying not to eat and drink too much…with intermittent success.
Brett McIntosh @bmc5100
The contributors were asked to write four lines of free verse. The first contributor was given the prompt “Unlocked”, and the rest of the contributors were given only the last line of the verse before theirs.
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