LETTING GO

My fists pound the old black door
As it slowly closes, sealing away
The love and laugher of an old friend.

My hands helplessly slide over
The rough, splintered wood, unable to stop
Time.

The sound of the door clicking shut
Ends all that was.
My hands, now open, surrender the fight
Now free to softly wipe away
The tears streaming down my face.

Kathleen Morrison