At my door

A shallow figure

Came to my door

Why are you here?

What came you for?

I do not know

I cannot be sure

Why I am here

Standing at your door

I arrived by chance

Not knowing its allure

But now I am here

Of being here I am sure

This is where I want to be

I have been here before

I recollect not when

No matter the heretofore

Only what will happen

Is of real import

Let us adjourn

To the drawing room

Where there is space

To sketch our lives

And etch our meaning

Into the solid trunk of being.

3 thoughts on “At my door

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