Inside the Birdhouse by Kathryn Campbell Dodd. Kathryn's website here.The door swings open,
you look in.
It’s dark in there,
most likely spiders:
nothing you want.
You feel scared.
The door swings closed.
Le Strade Di Firenze. Mixed media collage and acrylics on wooden door panels by Naomi Rachel Muirhead. Website here.The full moon shines,
it’s full of delicious juice;
you buy a purse,
the dance is nice.
The door opens
And swings closed so quickly
you don’t notice.
Assemblage by Robert Rauschenberg
The sun comes out,
you have swift breakfasts
with your husband, who is still thin;
you wash the dishes,
you love your children,
you read a book,
you go to the movies.
It rains moderately.
you have swift breakfasts
with your husband, who is still thin;
you wash the dishes,
you love your children,
you read a book,
you go to the movies.
It rains moderately.
Green Door by Giancarlo Venturini. Website here The door swings open,
you look in:
why does this keep happening now?
Is there a secret?
The door swings closed.
History Repeated. Mixed media, encaustic wax and recycled materials by Michele Ledoux. Website here.
The snow falls,
you clear the walk while breathing heavily;
it’s not as easy as once.
Your children telephone sometimes.
The roof needs fixing.
You keep yourself busy.
The spring arrives.
you clear the walk while breathing heavily;
it’s not as easy as once.
Your children telephone sometimes.
The roof needs fixing.
You keep yourself busy.
The spring arrives.
Wellfleet Abstract 3 by Michele Ledoux. Website here.The door swings open:
it’s dark in there,
with many steps going down.
But what is that shining?
Is it water?
The door swings closed.
Behind Closed Doors by Jane Simpson. See here.The dog has died.
This happened before.
You got another; not this time though.
Where is your husband?
You gave up the garden.
It became too much.
At night there are blankets;
nonetheless you are wakeful.
You gave up the garden.
It became too much.
At night there are blankets;
nonetheless you are wakeful.
Toria by Clay Ketter. See more here.The door swings open:
O god of hinges,
god of long voyages,
you have kept faith.
It’s dark in there.
You confide yourself to the darkness
You step in.
The door swings closed. - Margaret Atwood
Door by Susan Lenz. Blog here. Many amazing things to see!
Poem from The Door by Margaret Atwood
