OctPoWriMo #5: Doorway, Open or Closed

Windows is for looking out.
Doors is for comin’ an' goin’.
We moved so many times when I was a kid,
I guess it stuck. You told me once you
liked to travel, that you’re not
the marrying kind. I wiggled my eyebrows.
I like goin’ on the road as much as you, I said.
Now I’m like a rumpled sheet
I’ve slept in so many beds, as they say,
domestic an' foreign.

Comin’ in filled with hope. Maybe a pretty place to set a spell.
Goin’ out, sometimes on the run, not always ends the story.
But I’m still here. Even if we travel slowly,
an’ he cain’t carry me over that threshold,
an’ he’s more likely to set in his rocker,
that view out our window is good enough,
green pines and green hills,
an’ that door is open.

Writing a poem a day from scratch is not the easiest endeavor, but it’s a good way to start the day. I’m reading a mystery, The Clincher, by Lisa Preston, a mystery about a woman who shoes horses for a living. Her voice is entirely eastern Oregon country, influencing today’s poem. My husband and I are both afflicted by wanderlust, although after near 45 years together and some 25 countries, we’re slowing down a bit.

Hiking on Dishman Hills (Camp 2018)

Why not click over to OctPoWriMo http://www.octpowrimo.com/ to read what others have written -- and join in? Here's tomorrow's prompt: Blue.

Thank you, Morgan Dragonwillow, for hosting and inspiring us all!