Walking in the forest, I came upon an abandoned door frame,
overgrown with weeds, flowers and wild berries,
it seemed to lead to nowhere, until I looked closer.
Window suspended upon the oak, of stained glass and dreams,
reflecting lives happening just behind, in time and space,
surrounded by dance and festivities of days gone by.
Dust, cobweb, weed, and old broken scars on the pane,
kaleidoscope of strangers’ secrets assembled by numbers,
as many mysteries solved, as many stories told in a moment.
Eyes on the worlds we exist to pierce,
lost doors, and broken mirrors lie,
like our hopes and dreams, trapped behind the glass.
A little courage, just that much more push through,
so we may visit, and perhaps even stay a while,
within those lands we once failed to see.
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. As a novelist and poet his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and dozens of other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, The San Pedro River Review and more than 200 other publications.