Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Just Past the Door

The chill, a frigid and bitter cold,
And a blustering wind over an alley’s coarse body.

Take one step
Past the ethereal engravings,
And the ice slips away,
Melts into the draping linens
That comforts and cloaks all

From tears, the liquid sorrow
Thrust upon a child by the ghost in the living room.

Take one step
Through the wooden frame,
And the salty lake dissipates,
Evaporates into the moist air,
Whose praising voices alleviate all despair

And guilt, a cleaving pain
Jabbed into an innocent without true purpose
For what could a child do?

Take one step
Past the glossy handle,
And the sanguinary struggle withers,
Succumbing to the Cedar of Lebanon
Whose steadfast faith flowers my own

Despite the spiteful vengeance
Against the one who destroyed my home’s sanctity.
The one who shot my dog in front of my own eyes
As a child, only a child.
The one who should- will- must-

But that home is gone.
Now.
Forever.

But just take one step into the elegant threshold,
And all, I believe, is forgiven.

More writing by this author

Blogs on This Site