Once there was a door: the song is still there

Old door with peeling paint

Almost falling

I remember you almost falling
into emptiness and thinking
the air should have wings
like the blood has memories
like when the music bites
so hard it almost feels like
bells ringing in darkness
announcing your burial
over and over like
your final hour of the light
but the true nature of falling
is more like a frightened
bird’s flight through open windows
than the weight of any name
carved in stone

— From my notebook
(for my father)

photo credits (where not otherwise credited)

“doors” / Denny Müller on Unsplash