Text Armond Kelty
A tendril fell from the trellis
The one I had been watching,
Afraid to water, to think it might take hold
And I would then need to water daily.
I would rather let time and fate take hold
than to act and show that I care.
You see I don't care for tendrils and
things that need watering.
The tendril hung in the wind, I could see out my window
I made no move to help
Finally it fell and a bird swooped it up
To give it new life as a nest.
The door half opened, half closed.
Letters sealed with angry lips, open slowly or not at all.
Open in the morning,not at night.
Open in the light so the sun can let the anger out
Postmarks barely visible,places a dim memory, letters quickly written : no care, no words, no compromise.
No stamp to save for later.
Doors Half Closed
Poems by Traveler Armond Kelty