Neil Young (b.1970 / England)
Doors bruise the air they push aside as they slam shut.
Draughts blow through keyholes like a whisper to an ear.
They know our secrets. Creakily doors break their silence.
Submitted: Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Comments about this poem (Keyholes** by Neil Young )
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