If I were a window

This is a construct, mere
joinery. If I were a window
or a door perhaps, a wall,
implicit in the lintel, must
pervade. And in the lintel,
piers to irk the load outward,
and beneath the piers —
stone. But what stands,
unremarked, are the holes
purposefully braced, through
which we pass, anterior,
cruciate as the wings
of hoppers that seek
a greater warmth, cruciate
as a threshold. Question
is: what demands the wall
that we must pierce it,
and what wind wills
a door open?

Image: Tom Barrett on Unsplash

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.