The Door and the Window
My love, you are timely come, let me lie by your heart.
For waking in the dark this morning, I woke to that mystery,
Which we can all wake to, at some dark time or another:
Waking to find the room not as I thought it was,
But the window further away, and the door in another direction.
This was not home, and you were far away
And I woke sick, and held by another passion,
In the icy grip of a dead, tormenting flame,
Consumed by the night, watched by the door and the window.
On a bed of stone, waiting for the day to bring you.
The door has opened: and can you, at last beside me,
Drive under the day that frozen and faithless darkness,
With its unseen torments flickering, which neither
The dearest look nor the longest kiss assuages?
Henry Reed's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Door and the Window by Henry Reed )
- In that unlikelihood, Mark Heathcote
- Blue ink, Donnie Wolff
- Tossing Memories, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Insanity, John Masaitis
- To My Juliet, Where The Chains Of Love a.., Captain Cur
- Roommates, S. I. Rednow
- That Last Piece of Cake, Phyllis Strong
- What Makes A Man A Man, John Masaitis
- Is It My Poetry's Nadir?, Dr John Celes
- Resolute Me, S. I. Rednow