The Attic

SEED: “towards the cob-webbed door you move”


‘tis not the natural wards and shields
that give character to doors unknown
and give me pause or spirit rush –

but the cob-webs in the attic of my mind,
where I have safely stayed too long,
sweeping dust into useless piles
instead of throwing open windows,
changing into a moth,
and yearning for another flame.