#319 The Persistent Knocker Poem by Jimmie Arrington

#319 The Persistent Knocker



Last night there came a knocking at my door,
I wondered who on earth it could be
But I’d rather stay seated and just ignore
The knocker inquiring of me;
I’d rather keep guessing than attempt the chore
Of making an effort to open the door.

I continued to rock in my corner chair
Lost deep in thought about life and death,
When again a knocking filled the still air.
I crept from my chair, holding my breath
And walked toward the door but when nearly there,
I remembered once again that I didn’t care.

I turned back around and sat down again,
And lost myself in my thoughts once more.
I began to drift, shutting down my brain,
When again came a knocking at my door.
The thud made me jolt and caused a slight strain
In my heart, my head and my pulmonary vein.

The persistent knocker caused my interest to peak.
Who would beat and bang so late at night?
My curiosity was won by the knocker’s mystique,
I wondered what news couldn’t wait til first light.
“Who’s there? ” I hollered but no one would speak,
There wasn’t a response; not a sound nor a creak.

I arose from my chair with marveling head,
Really, who would dare knock so late?
I made my way to the door and again I said,
“Who’s there? What news is too vital to wait? ”
Only silence replied, the night was hushed and dead
And I flung open the door to find the knocker had fled.

Confused and perplexed I look all around,
But there wasn’t a single soul in sight.
When suddenly, near my feet on the ground
Laid a dazzling sphere of light.
I picked up the ball, which weighed nearly a pound,
And looked deep into its core like an ultrasound.

As I gazed at this bright bewildering ball,
A familiar scene began to play within.
Each image was rather simple to recall,
They were events from my life playing again.
I saw myself as a youth, so naive and small,
Playing in the yard as the autumn leaves fall.

I saw my dog, Pacer, who had died long ago
And then my first crush chasing me in the sand.
I saw myself playing ball with guys I used to know
And then slipping a diamond on my lover’s left hand.
I saw close family and good friends come and go.
I saw it all in fast motion but somehow it seemed slow.

Then gradually the scenes faded from sight.
And again the doorway was silent and dark.
The ball began glowing a radiant, blinding white
And I felt my soul release and disembark.
It was then I realized I must exit stage right
And the persistent knocker claimed my life in the night.

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Jimmie Arrington

Jimmie Arrington

Phoenix, Arizona
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