She Ran To The Door Poem by Josephine De Leux

She ran in haste to listen to
the sound of his return,
Leaving all that stayed their place
and giving to her back
gazes full of weariness
at what she would find out.

She ran through the corridor,
feet as blue as ice,
no regard for passer-bys,
wrenched aside the door.

But more than just a sheet of wood,
denies him, from her.
Too late, this rememberance
struck, bulls-eye straight home.

Averting her face she soon began,
to retrace her steps back in,
not looking even once, a glance,
through the still-open door.

And if the voice had then refrained,
she never would have turned,
to face the doorway,
what it showed,
through the veil of snow.