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I Close the Door | A Poem by Marilyn Dial

I dust and clean,
I wash the floors.
Our love was full
within this house.
The furniture
is moved or sold;
my whispers echo;
my heart contracts.
I wash the floor
then close the door.

But isn’t a door
an entryway
as well as an exit
from another place?
One lifetime ends,
another begins
albeit with creaking
joints and limbs;
the mind much slower
still denies time’s sins.

A new year starts,
potential undefined.
There is a bucket list
and reimagined life
(an AARP site).
While youth sails
toward a future,
I see my final shore.
What shall I do then
before I close the door?


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