The hands trembled
as the fingers gripped on the knob
this is not the first time
she has opened the door

every single time before she has
it ended badly
it left a trail

she remembered it like yesterday
though it must have been so long
she knows it all

Yet she had her fingers
gripped on the knob
and any moment now
she will open it…

I waited…
she also waited..
what was on the other side of the door
also waited…..

Categories: National Poetry Month, Poetry

Tags: National Poetry Month, Poetry, Poetry Project