where’s the locksmith?

Scuff that sounded like
something was moving toward me
hesitating,
turning around,
preparing to go away

Breaths held
seconds dragging ever so slowly

Knocks on the door, soft at first,
then louder
becoming firmer as though
they belonged here
and deserved to be let in

(They may have
lifetimes ago)

I remembered something
and kicked myself in the bum
for not changing
the locks

~~~

© annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved

Advertisements

say something

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s