An Open Doorway
I decided not to pack too much for the future.
I’ve long been carrying too much baggage.
But I’m not blaming anyone.
This is my natural behavior.
It only recently occurred to me
there are things I no longer need to remember.
And of course by my age,
there are many things I’ve forgotten.
To whatever extent memory is a choice,
I choose to let go of a few memories.
I rarely can recall what I’m supposed to do,
or how I might get it done.
I’ve even forgotten with whom
I should be doing all this stuff.
It feels like I’ve left a door open.
There’s a tinge of fear and excitement
about who or what might enter.
And just maybe I’m the one seeking
an open doorway.
“I looked for myself, my hands, my feet,
saw nothing there.”
This poem was written on October 9, 2022.
©Brian Mueller - All rights reserved.
