An Open Door

Yesterday, as I worked at revising a poem,
A tap-tap-tap sound began at our front door

It sounded like a staccato someone
Had arrived, unannounced, and so I got up

To see about the visitor. I looked out
The right side window, through the translucent lace panel

Strung tightly across the panes. Nothing.
Then I peered out the left side window, just to be sure.

The light knocking continued. Flabbergasted, finally

I knocked on our door from the inside, thinking that if some

Strange ghost had come to call, he or she would surely understand

My odd behavior. One look out the right side window again

Gave me a unique view of a small black bird with tiny white spots,

Beating his wings. Perhaps exasperated by my lack of hospitality,

He flew away. The staccato rhythm stopped. That night, in a dream,
I ran down the stairs from the second floor landing

To see an ocean of white light flowing into our house from outside.
The strength of the light had flung the front door open, wide.



(Ciampa, Liz. "An Open Door." Wilderness House Literary Review. Cambridge, MA: Spring, 2010. 
Volume 5, Number 1. Print and online.)

Door knocker image provided by:
http://www.sturbridgeyankee.com/metal-bird-door-knocker.html