|*A big thank you to Stacey, Dana, Anna, Betsy, Beth, Kathleen, and Tara |
for running the SOL blogging challenge over at Two Writing Teachers.
I punched the button to open the garage door.
No groaning door or motor.
No light peeking under the widening sliver
exposing the outside as the door raised.
I pressed the button again.
The same nothingness.
The door did not budge.
It clung to the concrete floor,
refusing to move like a spoiled toddler
attached to a door knob
from which its mother vainly pried its hands.
Had my husband not been home
to hoist the door open via its pulley mechanism,
I would have been stuck
unable to drive to the university
unable to teach my night class.
That night I parked in the driveway and entered the house.
A new garage door opener still in the box
leaned against the wall.
This weekend Ken will install it,
but for now the door remains closed;
my car sits in the driveway.
And so it goes.
One door closes
another door beckons to be opened.
*On March 1, 2016 I opened the door to the Slice of Life blogging challenge. I've kept that door open 31 days straight. Tonight at 11:59 p.m. EST the door will close.
Tomorrow, April 1, 2016 another blogging door will open. I have signed up for the A to Z blogging challenge, which runs during the month of April. My goal is to write 26 posts for that challenge, one for each day of the month except Sundays, the day of rest. If I succeed, I will have written 57 posts in two months. That's as many as I sometimes manage in a year.
I have been all-in for the #SOL16 challenge. I have devoted considerable time and thought to each post. I have followed the "two down, one up" commenting directive and have commented on more than the suggested three each day, and because the team at Two Writing Teachers generously and graciously gives so much, I donated a prize that I will soon send out to the winner.
To those who have visited my blog, thank you. I hope you found your time here well spent and hope you'll come again. If I did not reciprocate in commenting, it's because I could not find you, so if you visit again, please leave a link.
Do feel free to check my blogging progress during April.
Doors opening, closing on us by Marge Piercy, 1936
Maybe there is more of the magical
in the idea of a door than in the door
itself. It's always a matter of going
through into something else. But
while some doors lead to cathedrals
arching up overhead like stormy skies
and some to sumptuous auditoriums
and some to caves of nuclear monsters
most just yield a bathroom or a closet.
Still, the image of a door is liminal,
passing from one place into another
one state to the other, boundaries
and promises and threats. Inside
to outside, light into dark, dark into
light, cold into warm, known into
strange, safe into terror, wind
into stillness, silence into noise
or music. We slice our life into
segments by rituals, each a door
to a presumed new phase. We see
ourselves progressing from room
to room perhaps dragging our toys
along until the last door opens
and we pass at last into was.