The door will close on the world,

the only vision

of what lays beyond the great beyond

will come through television’s

voyeuristic intent

and from the voices I hear

as they pass the gate,

unhindered and alone;

almost spectral, apparitions

in the dust of hopeful white

that will add fuel to the point

of staying put

safe in my own mind and memory.

 

I will hear no knocks,

no rapping with great urgency

upon the wooden door

but I will be startled from slumber,