Each Season's Doorway Poem by james watkin
Each Season's Doorway
Without one hesitant thought's
Cowering wince
Did, back from either doorway
None of us stay.
Igloo's for winter's zone. Hut's for
Summer's province.
Our hearts were a child's. Bravest
Who recall them
Will know what that means. Ready
To face, heady
Even days, too loud, blew up.
Matched our mayhem!
Sunday, April 23, 2023
Topic(s) of this poem: childhood,doorstep,weather
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8/3/2025 1:16:57 PM # 1.0.0
